


Invisible Future Stream

by Jacynon



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Post-Canon, Reality TV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacynon/pseuds/Jacynon
Summary: "Virtual reality!" Tsumugi exclaims, throwing her hands to the air. "No fake blood needed! No awful actors! Fifty-two seasons, yet somehow, no executive producer has thought of this before me? Who are Team DanganRonpa even hiring? How has this show been kept on the air for this long?"Not taking his eyes off the pods through the glass, Rantarou sighs and shrugs. "People like mindless entertainment these days. I've already won a few times before; if anything, I should know that the same formula's been working for this long. Why fix what isn't broken?""It's not fixing, it's improving," she corrects him vehemently.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AKA Tsumugi is an eccentric executive producer on DanganRonpa and only about as evil as any given game show host, Rantarou is her paranoid assistant who really needs a nap, and everyone's alive but still pretty fucked up and having a collective identity crisis.
> 
> It's probably not a good idea to start a fanfic before we've even gotten official translations, but I figure I can work with it, because this is decidedly going to be an alternate universe. I'm sure things are confusing in the first chapter, but that's mainly because things will be explained more in-depth later on. I'm nearly done with the second chapter, so I figure I'll have that up either tomorrow or the next day. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Blue hair waves back and forth as a shoe tapping fills the quiet of a long, narrow hallway.

It's been a little over two hours since Tsumugi Shirogane was pulled from virtual reality and put back into the real world. Around five minutes of that was spent getting out of the pod, walking through the main control room, shooting a nasty look at her assistant and designated least favorite person of the day, grabbing a quick stale snack from one the facility's vending machines, and promptly stomping her foot in anger because she realized very quickly that she's been locked out of a room _she_ paid for.

Those assholes.

Part of her understands why they wouldn't want her in the control room. If it were up to her, she'd just pull them all out as soon as possible. In fact, if it were _really_ up to her, she wouldn't even have bothered with waiting for the show to finish before just gradually taking them all out.

Tsumugi rubs her head and adjusts her glasses, crooked from all the pacing she's been doing to preoccupy herself.

Then, a figure steps out of the room. When she looks, she sees that it's _not_ one of the scientists.

Narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, she approaches him.

"So, what, they haven't woken up yet?"

The green-haired teen gives an exasperated sigh when he lowers the papers in his hands and sees her. "According to the men, they're apparently being kept in a temporary stagnant stasis at the moment. All of the scientists say that they're waiting for the remaining three to fall asleep within the world, because it'll apparently be a lot easier to pull them all out once that happens."

Oh, great, _more_ waiting.

"I just don't _understand_ , Ama," Tsumugi complains, clenching her fists to her sides, clearly frustrated. "Why couldn't they just have pulled each contestant out as they died, or just whenever they thought they were ready to leave, like they did with the two of us?"

"Shiro," he starts in a voice that sounds almost as if he's lecturing a petulant child. "You hired these men for a reason. _They're_ the experts here. If they say that the contestants need to all be pulled out of the VR world at the same time, we should listen to them. The process wasn't ever going to be instant, you know?"

The truth in Rantarou's words make her relax her previously tense shoulders. "I _guess_ you have a point," she resigns, hesitation still evident in her tone.

"Besides," he continues, putting a reassuring hand on her arm. "Between the two of us, only I was given new memories. And even then, I still _knew_ what was happening. Right now, none of them even know who they used to be, and those memories would just come flooding back all at once! That'd be pretty hard to deal with over and over again. More importantly, where would we have _put_ the contestants if we woke them up one by one? Flights to and from the island are pretty expensive - and we'd need to house them _somewhere_."

"Okay, okay!" she relents and puts her hands up defensively, closing her eyes and looking away but being unable to keep down a smile. "I get what you mean."

But once she says that, it's clear that it's Rantarou's turn to be concerned. "Still, though," he begins, and she inwardly groans because she just knows that he's about to go on one of his paranoid tangents. "I worry about all of this. I know it's probably irrational to, and I know they're supposed to be okay after all of this, and that I should be trusting the experts, too - and they've tested this sort of thing on animals _before_ \- but how can we know for _sure_ that they'll all come out more or less unharmed?"

At first, she doesn't even know how to respond. "What? You've gotta be kidding me. You're thinking about _that_ , of all things? You worry _way_ too much."

"Come on, Shiro, I'm being serious," Rantarou insists. "If it turns out that anything actually happened to the contestants, we might be facing some legal action. They agreed to die in a _game_ , not in real life."

He has a point, but she's not about to say that and make him even more paranoid.

Quietly, she walks over to the wall and leans against it. The plaster is visibly peeling and a dull, ugly grey, but it isn't as if she rented the place out for the sake of looking pretty. She just needed somewhere out of the way so that her men wouldn't be disturbed as they filmed and monitored the contestants. She probably _could've_ gotten somewhere nicer, especially considering how much attention she's sparked with the new season, though Tsumugi's never been one to waste anything, let alone money.

She gives a short sigh and shrugs nonchalantly. "Listen, let's just think about what our plans are after all of this is said and done. If something goes wrong, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Not like we can really do much _now_ ," and as she speaks, she moves to open the now-unlocked door to the control room.

In response, Rantarou frowns and turns to her. "Why are you so laid-back about all of this? You don't even look like you care."

"That's rude! I _do_ care," Tsumugi responds as she walks through the room, stopping in front of a large window, "I know what our viewers are looking for, and the meta-narrative we created has basically _guaranteed_ we'll get at least a few more seasons. Besides, the whole world thinks they're dead, anyway!"

* * *

There should be something other than rubble. Something. _Anything_.

"I'd use a scouting spell," Himiko says casually, "but without a specific target, I might lead us into danger on accident."

Neither Maki or Shuuichi have enough energy to entertain her excuse for something she didn't even need an excuse for.

Ever since they were able to escape the killing game, the horrifying show that trapped them in a fiction come to life, they've been walking and trying desperately to find _someone_ \- _anyone_ \- _anything_ \- and get some sense of normalcy back in their lives. They don't even necessarily know what or who they're looking for, specifically. At first, Maki thought of splitting up and meeting back in the same place, but knew that none of them really wanted to be separated after everything that happened.

So, they've resolved to stick together and simply find civilization as soon as possible.

There's only one problem.

There's...nothing.

Himiko's fist tightens on her hat and she brushes her red hair out of her face with her free hand. "We've been walking forever, why can't we find anything? Why can't we find any _one_?"

"It hasn't been _that_ long," Maki corrects her, though she has to inwardly admit that it _does_ feel as though they've been walking for a ludicrous amount of time. All three of them look exhausted and sweaty, the sun's rays beating down on them as if it were in the middle of summer. They were already tired by the time they escaped, but the heat of the sun is only serving to add to it. She doesn't remember it feeling _this_ hot before, not that they've really been outside in a bit.

They've all already been through enough.

Having to walk for miles without any discernible civilization is just like pouring salt in an open wound.

"...We've seen that building before," Shuuichi says in quiet realization, halted just a few feet behind the other two. They stop to turn to him.

Before Maki can question him, Himiko's already demanding answers. "H - huh? I don't understand, what do you mean by that?"

In the midst of his confusion is a familiar expression, one that Maki's seen on him every time they had a class trial. He's encountered something that doesn't add up and he's trying to solve it. "It's just strange," Shuuichi states quietly. "In fact, we've seen all of these buildings before. It's easy to think it all looks exactly the same, but doesn't this place seem at all familiar to you two?"

"Yeah," Maki responds immediately, because even through her dazed headache, she can tell that they've been through this area before. "Have we been going in circles?"

"C- c'mon, _please_ ," the redhead whines in a lazy, slurred voice. "We're all probably just too tired for all of this and went the wrong way somewhere. Can't we stop for a nap, or something? I was low on MP _before_ all of this...I'm almost totally out, now."

Admittedly, the thought of sleep is awfully appealing. That, and Maki can at least acknowledge that their lack of rest is probably causing them to see things and to make bad directional choices. If it's come to that, they'd do a lot better fully-rested than they would if they decided to just continue walking and risk getting lost all over again.

She rubs her head and takes a seat on one of the cleaner pieces of rubble. "She has a point. Let's take refuge in one of these houses for now."

It doesn't come to them as much of a shock that there's nothing to be salvaged of anything that could constitute as a bed, or even a comfortable surface anywhere in the buildings they search through. Still, they decide to take a short sleep anyway, because she imagines they collectively agree that they're all about tired enough to sleep on a bed of needles, if it came down to that.

None of them say anything as they lay down.

Through the broken window, Maki watches the blue sky and listens to the other two drift off.

She's the last one to fall asleep.

Right before she closes her eyes and gives in to the daze, she thinks she notices the sun flickering in her periphery, just a bit.

* * *

"Virtual reality!" Tsumugi exclaims, throwing her hands to the air. "No fake blood needed! No awful actors! _Fifty-two seasons_ , yet somehow, no executive producer has thought of this before me? _Who_ are Team DanganRonpa even hiring? _How_ has this show been kept on the air for this long?"

Not taking his eyes off the pods through the glass, Rantarou sighs and shrugs. "People like mindless entertainment these days. I've already won a few times before; if anything, I should know that the same formula's been working for this long. Why fix what isn't broken?"

"It's not fixing, it's improving," she corrects him vehemently.

He doesn't have nearly enough energy to fight her on it.

Rantarou himself has been pulled out of the VR world for a while now, but he remembers just how bewildering it was at first. He can't even imagine how it'll be for the contestants. He at least _knew_ what he was doing, and he wasn't given an entirely new personality without his knowledge and knowing consent. Well, he supposed that the contracts were the consent, but he doubts any teenager would read a contract _that_ long.

Hell, Rantarou only read through it himself because he wanted to make sure that Tsumugi wasn't going to...sell his organs, or something. He really wouldn't put it past her.

"Hey, Shiro," he gazes at her in the corner of his eye and slumps forward in his chair. "Do you really think preparing to pull them out _right_ after they've fallen asleep is such a good idea? Maybe we should wait a while, or something."

"As always, you're worrying _far_ too much, Ama," she responds as she adjusts her glasses. "Oh, and good work on the sun, guys. That probably sped up their exhaustion rate."

And as always, she completely disregards his words.

The men spout off information on each individual contestant's current states. Rantarou only vaguely listens, but comes to understand that everything they're saying definitely sounds normal. The contestants definitely appear to be fine, from what he can tell. None of the men around him are too concerned, after all. There doesn't seem to be any need for any anxiety. And he's made a conscious decision to _refuse_ to panic if no one else is panicking first.

"Yeah, yeah, all this stuff just means they're healthy, right? And you were waiting for them to fall asleep, right? In that case, what are you waiting for _now?_ " Tsumugi gestures to the window. " _Take them out!_ "

Around two minutes pass as the men rush to conduct a final collective analysis. She hates having to wait, but doesn't make a complaint.

"Wait, now?" Rantarou gives her an incredulous look. " _Right_ now? All of them?"

As if he's asked her this a hundred times before, she groans. "Yes! Right _now!_ "

And just like that, steam begins to escape each of the pods.

"Disengaging now, miss."

The cases open one by one.

A few seconds pass, and nothing happens.

Rantarou tightens his fists.

Then, slowly, gradually, heads start poking out of the pods. There's a continuous increase of movement as time goes on, all shaky and unfocused, but it's _there_. In the darkness, they look more like silhouettes than people. Tsumugi grins widely, clearly just barely holding it together for the sake of saving face in front of the scientists. "Ready the guards," she says, signaling to one of the men, who promptly exits.

Sighs of relief fill the control room.

Staring intensely through the glass, Rantarou interlocks his fingers and looks to the experts, the ones he's trying to convince himself to put his trust in. "Vitals. How are their vitals?"

"Normal, sir."

"See?" walking over to give him a pat on the head, Tsumugi smiles. "Nothing to worry about. They're perfectly _fine_."

As the teens all wake up and observe their surroundings - not that there's much to look at - something pops into Rantarou's head. "Are any of them looking at us?"

"Relax," she reassures him. "It's a one-way window. They can't see us."

"Um, miss - I hate to interrupt, but," one of the men turns to her. "The contestants are awake now, and I suggest providing them with some sort of... _insight_ on the situation before their mental states are further damaged."

At that, Rantarou's head snaps over in concern. "Wait, _further_ damaged?"

"Not a problem." Tsumugi grins, an excited glint in her eyes, and puts a hand on Rantarou's shoulder. "Let's go greet our winners and losers."

Just like that, she heads for the door.

* * *

Darkness.

What sounds like steam being released, and more darkness.

Groans of confusion and grogginess, an oncoming headache and a stomachache to match, yet still more darkness.

Shuuichi decides that he's having a _really_ bad day.

Not that the days prior were any better. At the immediate forefront of his mind, he understands on a basic level that he was just in a ruined city landscape alongside Himiko and Maki. They all decided to take a quick rest in an empty, run down building. He fell asleep. But even that's being overwhelmed by...

By...

He's not sure what this is.

He's not quite sure _who he is_.

"H - Hello?"

"What? Who's there? Where _am_ I?"

"Hang on - just what's going _on_ here?"

Voice after voice starts to bounce off the walls, wherever those walls even _are_. Shuuichi recognizes all of them, vaguely. They don't all seem to register in his mind as being real. And there's a reason for that, he thinks, but he's not entirely sure how exactly to confront that reason. There's something scratching at the back of his mind that's threatening to break his mental clarity.

The pieces of a large, complicated puzzle are strewn about in his mind, and he doesn't currently seem to have the hands to pick them up with.

A nearly blinding light cuts through the darkness and the confused cacophony of voices.

Just like moths to a flame, everyone's eyes snap to the figures that appear in the now open doorway.

Men dressed as guards begin lining the walls. Other men in white coats stand in front of the entrance. Suddenly, as if the sun had suddenly appeared right in the room, everything gets covered in a bright white. After Saihara's eyes adjust, he looks in dumbfounded shock to the people who catch _everyone's_ attention. At the forefront is Shirogane Tsumugi with an uncharacteristic grin. Just behind her, staring in a mix of worry, exhaustion, and vague pity is Amami Rantarou.

Then, almost as if she's inviting everyone in for a hug, Tsumugi opens her arms and at the same time opens her mouth.

"Thank you, everyone, for your participation in the fifty-third season of _DanganRonpa!_ "


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Thank you to everyone who left reviews and kudos, by the way, y'all are the best. I'm grateful that people seem to like this story, or at least that people find it interesting. As a side note, chapter three might take a few more days, because I'm still working on my other stuff at the same time. Again, thank you!

_Wow, this sure is going terribly._

Tsumugi's glad that she knows from experience just how cramped up your legs can get after lying, strapped in a pod for days on end.

If that wasn't the case, she's sure everyone would have bolted right for her after the rage and confusion set in.

"What's _wrong_ with me?" the blonde girl - Angie, _right_ \- squeaks out, nearly in tears. "W - what's happened? What did you _do_ to me? Why is m - my head all messed up right now? I don't understand! I don't understand _anything!_ "

Oh, boy.

Similarly, Kaede actually _is_ in tears - oh, _right_ , the girl chosen to be the shock protagonist death at the beginning of the season - though she's quietly muttering to herself and looking at her hands as if she's never seen them before. The water rolls down her cheeks like a dam that's just been broken and she doesn't even seem to register that there are other people in the room.

Tsumugi's glad they put a trash can in the room, because she really would _not_ have liked to see that Kokichi kid puking all over the floor.

Some of the others are doing a bit better - Himiko's about in the same boat as Kaede, minus the tears - Shuuichi and Korekiyo look very obviously ill, but are holding it together enough to at least not be reduced to a crying mess - others still have channeled their confusion into anger and are staring Tsumugi down like they're about to kill her at any moment - and a couple are sitting quietly, either still in shock or waiting for some sort of explanation. Or, possibly both. She supposes it doesn't really matter. All in all, it's so far about what she'd been expecting.

Not that she's happy about it.

"Can - can we," Tsumugi scoffs and raises an eyebrow. "Can we get, like, some frame of order in here? I sort of have a _lot_ of stuff to say and not a whole bunch of time to get through it all."

"Yes," the huge beefcake says it - Gonta, _hah_ , one of her favorites - and it's almost like he growls it out, poison lining his words. "I'd...I'd like to know just what the _hell_ is going on here. I think _everyone_ would like to know."

Then, like magic, the loudness of the room seems to more or less die down.

The exchange makes even the most broken down at least look up and pretend like they're listening. She figures that the rest of them can just explain it to the ones too out of it to properly understand her now. Honestly, it's so far going a small bit better than she'd been expecting. At the very least, no one's tried to murder her yet, and no one's even made a run for it out the door. There's still some murmuring going on, but it's quiet enough that Tsumugi can speak over it without issue.

Honestly, she probably should've rehearsed this, or something.

Running a hand through her hair, she looks across the group. "Well, let's get the obvious out of the way," her mind races with what exactly she should say to them first. "You signed up as contestants on a television series. Probably the most _reality_ that any reality TV show can get, because none of you knew what was going on! More or less, at least."

She gives them a moment to process this, though none of them look necessarily shocked. She hopes that's a sign that their old memories are setting in. It's in this moment that she starts to understand why the higher-ups were hesitant to move away from having teen actors and fake blood. This is turning out to be a _lot_ more complicated than she intended it to be from the beginning.

"A TV series," Kaito breathes out, holding his head. "I signed up for a TV series. That's right."

A sigh of relief.

Tsumugi beams at him. "I'm glad you're starting to remember! Yep - you all signed contracts to be on the fifty-third season of _DanganRonpa_."

"I - I _get_ that," when she looks over, it's the little witch girl who's standing in distress. "I know that, I think. I can - I can remember that, now. I just don't get why my - why _all_ of our - why our heads are all messed up like this! Why were we put in these weird _things?"_ she gestures to the pod she's sitting in, hand trembling along with the rest of her body. "I can't remember how I even got here!" Himiko pulls at her hair and grinds her teeth, shaking her head vehemently like she can just shake off the whole situation.

The blue haired woman gives a sigh and rubs her head. "Come on, it's not obvious yet?" she should have expected that none of them would have thoroughly understood what exactly they were getting into, but she didn't count on them having memory problems this soon. "You were all - "

"Given...new memories," Shuuichi states in realization, interrupting her. "Y - Yumeno, we were all given new memories, remember? But...this all...were we not in the _real_ world that _entire_ time...?"

It's clear that everyone's blood turns cold in that moment.

Tenko turns her glare over to Shuuichi. "What? Hang on, what? We were...given new memories? How do _you_ know that?"

"We - we were _told_. At the end, anyway."

The sound of snapping fingers brings their attention back to Tsumugi, who's sporting a clearly irritated face. "Yes, that's good and all. Great job clarifying that for everyone. You were all given new memories when you were put into the virtual reality world. New personalities. It was for drama, obviously. We had to make all of your actions and reactions believable for the show, so we created your in-show characters to be different from your real selves!"

Again, she stops to let it sink in for them.

Not even more snapping can be heard over the immediate uproar.

"W - Why? That's what I want to know!" Kaede tearfully demands among everyone else's angry and distressed voices, sounding hysterical. "Why would you go so far? If - if _this_ was going to happen to us, why would you make us go through this? We could have just... _acted!_ We could have just acted! Or...why even change our memories _that_ much?"

"Yeah, right," Tsumugi waves off her argument. "Like we could get any _genuine_ reactions from a bunch of teenagers who knew perfectly well what they were getting into the entire time! And, to be totally honest, your personalities as a whole were _kind of_ lackluster and predictable from the get-go. Predictability isn't good for TV, honey."

Himiko is still shaking her head. "No, no, I still don't get it," she states. "We were - was - was none of that even real? You said it was a virtual reality! But - _but_ \- "

"It makes no sense!" Miu exclaims. "No sense at all! I - _we_ \- why are the people who died all just suddenly okay? We _died!_ "

Tsumugi cocks her head to the side.

"Oh," she replies in sudden understanding. "I think I get it now. You're the type of person who believes that if you die in a dream, you die in real life, right? I shouldn't really be that surprised. That's how _you_ apparently died, after all. Well, these machines follow that exact same idea. All that stuff is really just a myth! It's not backed up by anything. But, that should be obvious, since you're all alive right now. All that stuff was done solely in the virtual reality. A simulation!"

Before they all have a chance to react, Kaito stands up and juts his finger at her. "You're fucking _insane!_ I'm out of here, let me the hell out!" he exclaims, stepping out of the machine and storming over to her.

On cue, the guards block his path and point their guns right at his face.

From the side, Rantarou winces and his shoulders tense up.

"Uh, yeah, no," Tsumugi says flatly. "You can't leave. None of you can. Not yet, anyway. I'll let you leave eventually, but definitely not back to your homes, and only _after_ I've explained everything and _after_ you all understand what you need to do. I'm going to be sending you all somewhere and I need you to get the situation. And since I _know_ there'll be a lot of resistance, I'll let you all know ahead of time that violation of the contract can and _will_ result in legal action."

Paralyzed with fear, Kaito stumbles back and his legs buckle, send him to the floor. "Y - You can't just," he yells, more confused and fearful than angry now. "You can't just put us in jail or some shit, just because we won't follow your shitty contract!"

"Actually, I _can_."

Tension fills the silent air. "Then," a shaky voice pulls the group to look at Miu, tone just as shaky as she is. She's tightly clutching at her sides, looking sickly. "Then, w - what now? You said you were sending us somewhere, but isn't this all supposed to be over? I don't understand why this can't just be _over_ and _done with_. After everything, after this whole - this _fake-out_ \- what now? What are we even supposed to do after all of this?"

At that, Tsumugi takes a step forward and waves a hand. As if they were expecting this, one of the guards promptly closes the door.

"I'm so glad you asked," she responds with a smile. "See, I'm going to have you all do a little something for me."

They all glare at her in disbelief. What coordination.

" _As if!_ " this time, it's Kirumi who stands. While she is clearly still very disturbed by their situation, more than anything else, she looks absolutely _livid_. In this one moment, she seems to be showing more pure emotion than anyone can remember seeing on her face throughout the entire killing game. "You're expecting we'll do _anything_ for you? After what you've put us through? After - after - whatever the hell _that_ was? Are you absolutely mental?"

Though most of the group is shaken by the outburst, none can talk against her, as she's really only saying what's on everyone's minds. Unfortunately, though, Tsumugi doesn't seem bothered. Instead, she nods in a way that seems like she'd been anticipating this sort of resistance from the beginning.

After letting Kirumi cool down for a moment, Tsumugi crosses her arms and replies. "Funny you should say that. I'll give you one thing, I probably shouldn't have phrased it as a request," she admits, as if it would make any one of them feel any better. "It's really an order. A contractual obligation, if you will. You've all just participated in the very first season of _DanganRonpa_ filmed _entirely_ through a virtual reality world. The thing is, though, the audience doesn't _know_ that. In fact, no one outside of this building and the other executives know that."

At this point, everyone seems far too exhausted to properly register what she's saying. "Get to the point," Tenko groans out.

"The _point_ is," Tsumugi starts, unhappy about being interrupted, "that the _entire world_ thinks that you're all dead. All but three of you, at least."

And just like that, the room falls dead quiet.

"...You've got to be joking," Angie states, smiling in a way that almost seems hopeful. "This is - this is just some really messed up joke, right?"

The tone of her voice makes it obvious that even she doesn't believe that it's a joke.

"H - hang on," Shuuichi interrupts her, eyes upturned in worry. "We're missing someone. Aren't we missing someone?"

Then, Tsumugi starts clapping, as if he's just solved a math question. "That's right! Good job, Saihara. Fitting of someone who's the Ultimate Detective!"

As expected, he looks entirely offended at the compliment.

The majority of them quickly glance around, trying to find out who's missing. She can even tell that a couple are counting the students in their heads, though there are those who are either refusing to figure it out or who weren't listening to her in the first place. Some others are looking at her expectantly, like she's going to give them the answer. And she _does_ consider telling them outright, but decides that letting them learn it themselves is a good way to gauge where they are on a mental level.

Then, Korekiyo of all people speaks up. "Kiibo."

"Well done!" she nods happily at him. "Looks like everyone's on their ' _A_ '-game today! Don't go worrying about him, though. We've already transported him to your new temporary home. I'll say, it's a lot easier to do that with a robot than with humans."

This sparks yet another bout of freak-outs.

Maki stands up and moves to lean against the wall. "Fine! I'm tired of being confused. Just come out with it already and tell us what you want."

In response, Tsumugi nods, glad that _someone's_ letting her get the information out. " _Thank_ you, Harukawa," she says, pushing up her glasses. "There's a plane outside waiting for all of you. You're all being sent to a remote, isolated area. Think of it like a resort, if it helps any, because...that's exactly what it was originally built as. With the world thinking you're dead, I plan to keep you all secluded from others until the shock wears off. Then, we're bringing you all back for a _big reveal_."

She puts her hands out at the last two words, like it's something they should be excited for. Almost everyone who's able to understand what she's saying looks at her as if she's a fucking idiot.

" _Why?_ " Tenko loudly demands.

"Duh," Tsumugi replies. "Shock value. We keep you hidden, then reveal that you're all totally alive, and boom! Controversy _skyrockets!_ I'll tell you, if anything's _good_ for television, it's controversy, especially for a show that's been dying out. And before you think of refusing, just remember - you're under contract!"

Everyone seems to understand at this point what sort of situation they're in.

They all seem unable to even respond. They don't even want to face the reality they've been forced into, let alone accept it.

All, except Maki, who asks through clenched teeth, "How long?"

"One year."

Somehow looking even more angry than before, Kaito punches the wall. " _Hell_ no!"

Tsumugi covers her face with her hand. "Are you kidding me? We _just_ went over this," she points definitively at Kaito and puts more emphasis on her words as she repeats what's already been said. "You can't refuse. I'm not giving you the _choice_. Be glad I didn't make it longer! Though, honestly, I wanted to. Either way, you're under contract, so you agreed to this even before the season started. It's not _my_ fault that you regret your own decision! It's not _my_ fault none of you read it thoroughly! You can't blame _me_ for a mistake _you_ made."

That seems to more or less shut them all up.

Though they clearly don't all agree with her, and even the ones that seem to are still _more_ than pissed, she's glad that she's managed to avoid violence as well as she has so far. She figures that they need _someone_ to blame for everything that's happened to them, that they need a subject to project all of their rage and hatred onto. Kids are always like that, and even some adults are, too. And she can't really say that she cares too much that she's the one they're choosing to put all that blame on.

She waits patiently for anyone to ask another question. Even though she imagines that they're still confused and that they'll bombard her with a million different queries and demands, the majority of them resolve to talking among each other and to leaving her to quietly observe.

"...Alright," Tsumugi says finally. "One last thing - you're all fully aware of the cash prize for the winner - or, in this case, _winners_. Shuuichi Saihara, Maki Harukawa, Himiko Yumeno - the reward will be distributed evenly between the three of you _after_ you're released. And with that, I think we're just about finished here. Start bringing them out."

"H - hang on, wait," Rantarou tries to stop her, but the men already make their ways to the contestants. "Shouldn't we do a _little_ more explaining before we just push them onto a plane?"

Each of the guards roughly pull each of the teens up, one of them opening the door for them to push them out of the building. Tsumugi disregards the protests coming from both Rantarou and from the contestants and steps aside, monitoring everyone closely. It's not the first time that Rantarou's started to wonder exactly what sort of organization he's agreed to work with and the type of person he's agreed to work under, but it's the first time it's been quite this serious.

Even their footsteps sound reluctant as they all slowly and forcefully limp in a single-file line through the doorway. All except, _well_ -

"Okay, seriously," Tsumugi puts a hand to her head. "Hey, _someone_ grab the kid barfing in the corner. Ouma, get a move on!"

* * *

"Is this actually a good idea?"

"Is _what_ a good idea?" Tsumugi asks, frowning at Rantarou.

He mirrors her expression, though with a bit more irritation. "This. _That_ ," he clarifies, gesturing to the boarding passengers just outside the building. "I know it's for - for _'shock value'_ and all, but can't you at _least_ get these kids to some therapists before you thrust them into this situation? They deserve that much, if not way more. All you're doing is putting a bunch of teens who don't even know who they _are_ on some random island together. Maybe _that_ should be the reality show instead!"

"We've sort of already done that."

"I was being facetious."

"And, amazingly, I don't _care_ ," she replies, putting her hands on her hips. "They signed up for this. They knew the risks, even if they didn't have the means to calculate for them accurately. Anyway, the more people we get involved with this, the more people who might leak the fact that they're not dead! We can't risk it."

He hates that she has a bit of a point, no matter his protesting.

Morally, it's completely atrocious of them to do this sort of thing to a bunch of kids. But when they're at the point they are now, they logically can't take a risk like that when they're trying to get the show revived. How it's even managed to go on for more than fifty season, he's not even sure, regardless of how entertaining it might be for some. Altering concepts and characters doesn't change the fact that it's the same _basic_ idea, repeated over and over consistently in similar patterns.

Rantarou crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at her. "So, tell me something, Shiro," he states, noticing how she doesn't take her eyes off of the line of contestants. "You've got us more viewers, now. That's all fine. But you're forgetting that popularity is a double-edged sword. Say someone tries to sue us for, y'know, _killing our actors_. Because that's basically what you're trying to convince the world of. What then? What do we do if that happens?"

"Like I said before," she responds without a hint of hesitation. "We cross that bridge if we ever get to it."

His shoulders fall and he looks at her with dumbfounded eyes.

"You're a moron."

Tsumugi only laughs and wraps an arm around his shoulders. "Love you too, babe. Now, come on. We've gotta get ready."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, whoops! Yeah, sorry, this took a little longer than I thought it would. Thank you all so much for your patience! I know not a lot happens in this chapter, but it still took me a bit to get it to a point where I was happy with it. And again, thank you to everyone who's reviewed! You guys mean the world to me and especially to my motivation. Every one of you is deeply appreciated.

No one seems quite ready to confront reality just yet.

They all stumble up the ramp to the plane, then aimlessly saunter along the aisle like they're all still gradually trying to process the situation. To be completely fair, Shuuichi imagines that they are. The light of the sun is almost blinding and he keeps his eyes squinted as he lets himself be shoved into the enclosed area. When he looks around, he realizes that most of everyone is avoiding conversation, with a couple of exceptions. Kaito is audibly complaining about the guards and their current situation, while Kirumi is muttering something quietly to herself with a murderous expression.

Some of the others are still talking to themselves, whether it be incoherent babbling or statements to calm themselves down.

In comparison, Shuuichi feels like he's under-reacting.

While he wouldn't say that he's _content_ by any means or even completely understanding of what they're all going through, he deduces that there's more of a disconnect between his fake memories and his real memories than what seems to be the case for the others. He can tell fairly easily what belongs where and is starting to slowly come down from his emotional high - and whether that's good or bad, he can't completely be sure. There's still the underlying concern of _who_ exactly this all makes him, but he decides to put that issue on the back-burner for the time being. It's easy. Not thinking about feelings is easy for him. He's good at that.

He doesn't make any sort of note of where specifically to sit, only picks an empty row at random.

In his periphery, he sees Kaito walk past, and almost wishes that he'd sat next to him. Others also shift to their own respective seats, most not really paying attention to those around them.

It bothers him just how upset and how furious he _should_ be feeling, but isn't.

It is, whether viewed logically or subjectively, beyond unfair that they were put into a situation they had no way of knowing would mentally affect them so badly, and he feels like he should hate Tsumugi for doing this to them. On top of that, he feels as though he should at least partially blame Rantarou, too. That's not even considering what he doesn't actually know about how involved Rantarou was in the situation. Though, for some reason, none of those are properly registering for him. There's no anger, or even necessarily sadness. There's a confusion in the back of his mind regarding whether he should actually be _happy_ or not, because at least his friends were _alive_ again, but then there was basically everything else going against that thought.

All of the conflicting emotions are, instead of battling against each other, bleeding into one another and meshing to an unpleasant grey shade of emptiness. It's an emptiness that Shuuichi remembers now, _yeah_ , that's what he's used to, that's the consistent state he's been in throughout all of his _real_ memories. A shame he's only been temporarily able to escape that, and all the while, he had no idea.

A complete shame, but it only gives him a tinge of sorrow, then fades away.

More movement in the corner of his eye brings him back to reality and he realizes that Kaede's decided to sit next to him.

Kaede.

 _Kaede_.

Any and all issues he had with the situation at hand essentially go right out the window.

His reality stops completely. Kaede's sitting next to him. Kaede is alive and breathing, existing, okay, and she's _right_ next to him. Visions of her execution flash before his eyes as she observes him silently from the side. At first, he can't quite get that through his head. It's been weeks since he's seen her at the least, and even though she's been in his general vicinity the entire time that they've been awake and outside of the virtual world of the television show, and even though he's technically acknowledged the fact that she's been there, he's been so preoccupied with other thoughts that he hasn't had the _time_ to realize that she's alive.

"You look pale," she states with a smile.

"Akamatsu," he replies breathlessly.

For a bit, his head spins. There are a million things he wants to say to her. He wants to tell her that he's happy that she's there, or that he's missed her, or that he never thought that he'd see her again or get to speak to her again and that it all feels like a dream that he _can_. The less than appealing part of him - if his fake personality could be considered more shy than truly socially inept like his real one - wants to say that seeing her die was like having to let go of a part of himself. Most of his time had been with his jumbled thoughts, but now, all he can think about is _her, her, her_.

But before anything passes his lips, she speaks.

"We've been through a lot. _You've_ been through a lot, and I'm guessing way more than I have. Speaking from...perspective, I guess. And all in such a short amount of time, I expect. I don't know what happened after I - well. I just wanted to know if," she starts, but cuts herself off. There's a hesitation in her voice, like she's trying desperately to fight against distractions and instead focus solely on him. "Are you...okay?"

It breaks his train of thought.

Almost, anyway.

His eyes smolder as he analyzes her question. _Is_ he okay? No, Shuuichi decides very easily that he's not okay. From a logical perspective, no one would fit the commonly accepted version of okay that she's probably talking bout if they've just been put through everything he's experienced. A strange sensation of betrayal takes hold of his heart when he thinks that. His brain is being illogical in ways that are technically helping him - that is, he's not quite reacting normally. He wants to tell her that he's not okay, because he _shouldn't_ be.

He takes a moment to think it over. "I don't know," he finally decides on.

"Right. I should have expected that, honestly. No, more like...that's how I feel, too. And I...hate to bring this up so suddenly," Kaede begins, a look of guilt passing on her face. "I'm happy to see you. I am, I _really_ am. For me, it doesn't feel like very long since we last saw each other, but I'm sure it's different for you. Still, I came here to set the record straight, Saihara."

"Set...the record straight?"

She then gives him a smile full of pity, like she's anticipating a negative reaction from him. "You seem like a good person, Saihara," she says, admiration lining her voice. "Not just out of obligation, but because that's your personal nature. People like you are hard to come by in this world. I'm sad that you had to get attached to someone like me. And since we'll be spending a lot of time in the same place, I wanted to tell you firsthand what I thought. I think...that we shouldn't see each other too much."

He stops thinking for a few moments.

Alarm bells go off in his head.

"What?" he asks in a small voice. "I don't...Akamatsu, no. You're my _friend_ , and I wouldn't want to just avoid you. I've - "

He wants to say that he's missed her so badly that it aches, but he chokes on his words before they're even out.

"You don't actually _know_ me, though," Kaede points out. "Not the real me, anyway."

_She has a point. A good one._

He ignores that point and forces a smile. "That's why I _want_ to get to know the real you."

It seems to shock her at first, but she quickly looks away.

"...That _is_ a nice thought," her eyebrows are upturned in sympathy.

They sit in silence for a moment.

For some reason, it feels to him as if he's screwed up somehow. Even though he's tried to reassure her - though of _what_ , he's not entirely sure - she still seems determined to keep on with her decision. He doesn't want her to avoid him, but he also doesn't know what to say to make her change her mind. There must be a sort of reason for why she wants to cut him off so quickly, but he can't quite tell what it is. _So much for being a detective,_ is his first thought, but he finds a sort of pride in that sarcasm.

"I...Akamatsu. When we were back in the building," Shuuichi starts, cutting through the low hum of background conversations and ventilation of the plane. For some reason, his face has a slight tinge of pink and his eyes are unfocused. He doesn't quite know what to say, so he speaks of the first thing that pops into his head. "I had a lot on my mind, I think we all did. Back in there, I had this thought - well, it was more just an observation, I guess, not a full _thought_ that I've been thinking about a _lot_ , or anything - I just thought that you...looked really cute, is all."

The compliment gives her pause. "When...when I was crying?"

"Oh," he goes a little pale at the realization of what he's said, but for some reason, can't bring himself to correct it. "I - well, yes."

Kaede stares at him for a full minute.

A _painfully_ long minute.

Then, her eyes narrow and she slowly blinks at him. "So, what?" she asks him casually. "Is _this_ your real personality, Saihara? Some creep who likes to see girls cry?"

"N - no! I - "

Before he can stutter out an excuse, she lets out a huff and shrugs, moving to rest her chin on her hand. "Oh, relax. I can't really look down on you based on just that, I'll admit," she sports a bored expression and her eyes seem far-away. "It's not as if it matters, anyway, not really. Even if you have a terrible real personality, yours probably wouldn't be able to compare to mine. Not even close."

A part of him wants to protest, to say that he _likes_ her personality, but he stops himself. It's not as if he actually _knows_ who she used to be. He's not completely sure he wants to know, regardless of what he said before.

"...Well, even if the person you used to be is different," he starts quietly, "even if _everyone's_ personalities are different, I don't think that it changes the bonds we've all created together. It doesn't change the bond I was able to create with you, I don't think."

She shoots him a judgemental look.

A part of his positivity deflates as Kaede frowns. "That's pretty naive, Saihara," and before the hurt sets in from her comment, he notices that she's doing her best to hide the fact that her face is slightly flushed. "But...I think that it might be the type of naive ideal I wouldn't mind trying to believe in."

After he understands what she's said, Shuuichi pulls at his hair and looks away, trying not to smile.

Even though he knows that this isn't technically the same Kaede he became friends with, he's not sure he entirely minds.

* * *

Kaito thinks that he's having a really shitty day.

Of course, so is everyone else, but that only pisses him off more.

When he walks through the aisle, he walks right past Shuuichi, fairly sure that he's going to sit next to Maki instead and that Shuuichi's own little girlfriend is going to take that spot. In the corner of his eye, he spots Ryouma eyeing Kirumi intently, looking as if he's having some awkward internal conversation with himself, and there's no way in _hell_ Kaito's about to barge in on that. He also sees the little witch girl take a seat in the middle of Angie and Gonta, all three with somewhat far-away looks.

At the very back, he sees Kokichi sitting alone.

Immediately, he gets the urge to _do_ something.

After he resolves to taking care of one problem, he walks all the way down the plane aisle. He stops at the back, and looks over to see that Maki's giving him a confused look. With a jerk of his head and a point of his thumb, he gestures over to Kokichi, and she gives an understanding nod and proceeds to find a seat a little ways away from them, though she's clearly eyeing Kokichi intensely. He's well aware of her reservations about the guy, and definitely has some of his own, but Kaito's glad that she trusts him enough to take care of himself. Even though he definitely _wants_ to go over and sit next to her, to at least catch up on some level, he knows that there's something else he's gotta do first. That, and he can't shake his weird, newfound insecurities.

Just before he turns away from Maki, he briefly notices Miu move next to her.

 _Whatever_.

Kaito leans over onto the seat. "Hey, you mind if I sit here?"

No response. Kokichi doesn't even look at him. That's fine, he guesses.

He sits down, trying both to gauge Kokichi's reaction and to try for once in his life to _not_ seem overbearing. It's not as if this is something he necessarily wants to do, but there's a burning need in his stomach. And even though he waits for Kokichi to say something first before launching right into his main reason for being there, nothing comes out of the guy. Not _one_ sign of acknowledgement.

The silence is unbearable.

"...Uh, hey man," Kaito begins, rubbing the back of his head and looking away, "I'm not the greatest at this sort of thing, whether it be the real me or the fake me. But, look, I just wanted to say it, I guess."

Finally turning his eyes to the other teen, Kokichi speaks quietly. "Say...wanted to say what?"

Kaito stops to observe the guy. Where the Kokichi he remembers seeing in the game always had a mischeivious glint in his eyes, the Kokichi in front of him now looks instead almost like an exhausted puppy.

 _Yikes_.

The awkwardness of the situation suddenly turns up to the max. Kaito winces at his own actions. "Well," he starts with a shrug, "I've thought about it for a while. I was _really_ pissed off at you, y'know? But I just wanted to say...thank you, is all. I mean, even if the death stuff wasn't really _real_ , it definitely _felt_ real at the time, yeah? And I know all you _really_ wanted to do was beat Monokuma, but...in my eyes, you helped save my girl's life. Or, at least, you helped her win whatever fucked up game we had to play, and I'm at least happy she got a reward for having to go through that shit, even if it doesn't really make up for it. That couldn't have happened if it wasn't for you and your messed up plan. For that, I just wanted to say...thanks, Ouma."

To his surprise, Kokichi doesn't verbally respond at first, only raises an incredulous eyebrow and looks at Kaito like he's completely insane, as well as backs away in his seat a bit. He gazes down in confusion, processing Kaito's gratitude as if it's an impossible puzzle he's just been set to solve.

"You said what you needed to," he says, words that'd normally sound cold if they weren't so heavily tinted with hesitation and indescribable emotion. "Don't you...think you should go back to her, now?"

"I guess I should, huh?" he asks rhetorically, giving a huff of laughter. "But honestly, I'm a little scared to. I don't know what she'll think of me - the me I am now, I mean. _I'm_ not even sure what to think of me."

Seeming genuinely interested, Kokichi narrows his eyes. "You don't like who you became when your memories were changed?"

Kaito laughs before responding. "It's not like that. It's sort of the opposite, actually. I _do_ like who I was changed to be, and...I think she does, too. _That's_ who she likes, not the person I used to be - or, I guess, the person I _really_ am. The person I was in the game, believe it or not, might have actually been who I've wanted to be this whole time. I almost wish I could've just stayed that way, instead of...ending up with a jumbled version of both my real and fake memories. Y'know?"

There's a small pause as Kokichi thinks this over.

"Do you...know for sure?"

"Huh?"

Kaito glances over to Kokichi, who's face is averted in deep thought. Kokichi shrugs and clarifies, "Do you know for sure that she wouldn't like who you are now? I think...you should talk to her."

"...Yeah," Kaito replies slowly. "I mean, yeah, I will. Eventually. Not now, though, I don't think. Things are pretty confusing for everyone. I sorta want to give Harumaki some space right now so we can both get a little more...stable, I guess."

At that, Kokichi giggles, coming out as a weird mix between the familiar malice and a foreign, _real_ humor. "That's not like you," he says, an index finger pointed at Kaito, voice more care-free than it normally sounds. "The type of person that Kaito was in the show - the hotheaded and sort of slow to get people's feelings one - that's not who's talking right now. But even though it isn't, I think Maki would like you all the same, yeah?"

There's a thought that moves to the front of Kaito's mind.

He blinks and stares at Kokichi.

Then, his eyebrows slowly raise as he comes to a sort of realization. "You're...you're actually a good person, aren't you?"

The casual expression is replaced with panic.

" _What?_ " Kokichi's shoulders hike up and he's immediately visibly uncomfortable. Almost like a mask, he puts up a grin that Kaito imagines is supposed to look cruel. "Are you just _that_ trusting of people you technically don't even know? No. Or, I wouldn't really say that I'm the right person to determine whether I'm...good _or_ bad, at this point. But you're an absolute _moron_ if you think good is the right answer. In fact, you don't even need that sort of qualification to be one. Or - _no_ , why are you asking, anyway?"

Kaito leans forward in his seat and crosses his arms, trying his best not to pay much mind to Kokichi's rambling. "Well, I mean, I'd imagine things are pretty different for you," he starts, voice low. "The person you were in the game...am I right in guessin' you're not happy with him?"

There's a pause as Kokichi gazes out to the others.

He looks down at his hands and sighs. "I wish I knew what I was getting into, is all. Putting it this way," he starts, and it immediately comes as a shock. Kaito's probably the only person in the group who's seen him genuinely vulnerable before, but that doesn't make it any less surprising. "If you were to tell me that my fake memories were actually my real memories - and that my _real_ memories were _fake_ \- it'd be just as believable. I couldn't tell you the difference between them. I want to, and I know I should, but I can't. It's like...I lived two separate lives."

"You too, huh?"

Hearing that, he jerks his head up to Kaito in surprise. "Is it...like that for everyone?"

Not completely knowing how to respond, Kaito frowns. "I can't say for sure," he brings a hand up to scratch at his head. "But I think so. I'd imagine they had to do a pretty thorough job of changing our memories if they wanted to create entirely new personalities, y'know? But, even then, it's...almost impossible to know which is which."

They stare at each other in silence.

Something passes between them.

"...Hey, I'm," Kokichi starts, voice cracking, and he clears his throat. "If you're going to say stuff like that, I guess I should say something, too."

Kaito frowns and stares at him. "Say...something? Uh, what d'ya wanna - "

"I wish I could've been a better person."

There's a certain vulnerability in those words that _really_ throws him off.

But, just as Kaito's about to respond, Kokichi lets out a bark of laughter that attracts some quick glances from the others. "I should've expected that you'd be that _stupid!_ " and no matter how forced his words sound, they still manage to piss Kaito off. "Did you actually believe me? It looks like you did. Your face says it all."

It takes all of Kaito's willpower _not_ to punch Kokichi in his stupid, smug face.

He grits his teeth and tries to calm himself down, and it amazingly sort of works. It definitely helps that he's already expended more energy than he felt he even had in the first place on the guards and on Tsumugi. All the rage he let out on them was doing wonders for his current patience, which he's sure he'd have already lost all of under normal circumstances. Kokichi is really just _that_ infuriating, and Kaito's starting to think that it's just a natural part of him and not an element added in by his fake memories, whatever those all were. He quickly decides that, though he likely knows the guy better than most others, he's glad he didn't have to put up with one-on-one interactions any more than necessary. Kaito would probably lose his shit twice as often.

"...Well, even if you're lying, it doesn't really matter, right? You were a _total_ piece of shit, don't get me wrong," those words seem to make Kokichi's expression both more pained and more manic. "You piss me off beyond belief. But in the end, you still went out doing something for the others, right? You ended up doing something good."

Kokichi stops smiling.

In fact, he shuts himself off completely. Any further attempts Kaito makes at conversation are totally ignored.

* * *

At first, Himiko wanted to choose a seat completely at random. Then, she wanted to isolate herself from others and pick one far away from anyone else. Then, she wanted to sit next to someone she liked - anyone she liked, really. But none of those options seemed to work out when she entertained them for more than five seconds.

How she's ended up in the middle of Angie and Gonta, she has absolutely _no_ idea.

A short series of bad choices, obviously. Of course, Angie isn't a bad person to sit next to. On the contrary - Himiko remembers clearly _really_ liking Angie. For that matter, she doesn't think that Gonta is too much of a bad person, either. Not that she really knows either of them all too well. For being one of the victors, it's a bit strange that she can't seem to recall getting too emotionally invested in the bonds she's made with the others. She figures that's an awful missed opportunity. Though, to be fair, she can easily identify the moment she decided to detach herself from the others.

It was when _she_ ended up -

Himiko shakes her head.

From the corner of her eye, she can spot that Tenko and Korekiyo are sitting next to each other, both completely silent, neither even acknowledging each other's existence. She wishes that Tenko had instead sat next to her.

"So," she starts, looking up at Gonta. "How...are you doing?"

He turns to stare at her, clearly out of it. "Confused."

Just then, Kirumi passes by their seats. "Yeah, welcome to the club."

Himiko watches her walk to sit next to an extremely nervous-looking Ryouma and decides not to give her input.

"We've technically been sleeping for weeks," Angie says, head laying into her hand. "Why do I feel like all I wanna do is sleep _more_?"

Honestly, Himiko can't find it in herself to disagree. She's never felt quite so exhausted, even in her fake memories when she'd been constantly tired for no real reason. All she wants to do is forget all about the lie she's been apparently living and take about four hundred naps, and then maybe reevaluate her apparent disinterest in magic that she can now only vaguely recall. If only it _were_ real, because maybe then she'd be able to not feel as hopeless about her situation as she does. Maybe she could just go back to convincing herself that it is real, somehow, _maybe_.

And maybe sitting in the middle of two people was a bad idea. She's suddenly feeling really claustrophobic.

But there's also the fact that she's impossibly restless. Even if she can somehow find a good place to sleep, she wonders if she'd even be able to get any amount of it.

At least she won. That much, she understands.

...What did she even want the money for?

For some reason, she can't quite pinpoint it. She can't figure out why she did it all. The purpose she had for entering the show in the first place completely eludes her. Like someone's used a spell to tamper with her memories or - _stop using magic analogies_ \- like she's still trying to process the differences between her real memories and fake memories, and not all of them are fully there yet. Yeah. She decides that's probably it.

It's not like it matters. She apparently has an entire _year_ to remember it.

Himiko bends forward in her seat and sighs. "I don't think things are going to get easier."

To her side, Gonta gives a solemn nod. "Only more difficult," he agrees simply.

Just as the plane begins to take off, Himiko finds that leaning into Gonta's side is a lot more comfortable than it should be.

* * *

Rantarou really needs a raise.

"Ama!" Tsumugi exclaims. "Hand me that ribbon over there, yeah?"

Or a new job.

He runs a hand through his hair and complies with her order, though reluctantly. "I've got to ask. Didn't you hire me because I understand the show better than anyone else?" he asks, reciting the statement he vividly remembers from their very first encounter. "Shiro, when you said I was going to be your assistant, I didn't expect that it meant I'd be your personal lap dog for all of eternity."

More than that, he definitely hadn't been expecting to stick by her side every second of every day, even within her own home.

"I don't pay you to contradict everything I say!" she exclaims, stepping out from behind the panels. "And I _mainly_ hired you because you look just like this cute boy from the second installment of the original _DanganRonpa_ , not for any _innate skill_. You think you're the only person to win this show more times than one?"

Rantarou shrugs and raises and eyebrow. "I _do_ hold the record, you know? And why are you going to a dinner with the executives dressed as Maizono? Cosplay isn't very professional."

"What was it I said about contradicting me?" Tsumugi gives him a menacing and pointed look, but all he does is roll his eyes. "Anyway, the executives are huge fans of the originals! I'm not doing this just because I want to. It's a cute outfit, but I don't totally want to wear it. but she's practically a classic character. I'm doing it to impress them, and to show off my talents. It's not like they'll think less of me for it. If they do, who cares? They _know_ I'm getting them way more ratings as long as I'm on the staff."

"You don't even like cosplaying in general."

Her blue hair waves majestically as she lets out an ungraceful laugh. "What's wrong with you? You should be happy," she says, walking over to put an arm around him. "See, if I get them to see _me_ as indispensable, that means _you're_ in the same boat. Did you just forget that you're my assistant?"

"Trust me, I'd like to."

" _Very_ funny."

Rantarou frowns at her, but doesn't pull away. "Listen, no offense to you as a person, but you can sort of come off as... _too strong_ to people. Personality-wise, at least. Maybe try to act a little more like how you did in the show?"

She actually seems to consider his words.

What a shock. First time for everything, he supposes.

"I'll give it a shot, maybe," she says flippantly. "But it's not like you'll know. _You_ still need to prepare our little mini-meeting with our kids."

Rantarou sighs and rubs at his face. "Can you _please_ stop calling them our kids? They're around the same age as us, Shiro. Not only that, but I'm fairly sure that they hate us. And rightfully so," he shakes his head and moves to place a hand on her shoulder, forcefully softening his expression. "Listen, you take care of the other executives and I'll make _sure_ we get all of our information ready for tomorrow. I trust you, and I trust that you'll be able to make them think however you want them to. That's what you're good at, give them a good impression and I can take care of the rest."

Tsumugi stares at him, looking both touched and caught off guard. She quickly regains her composure.

"Obviously," she affirms. "That's how it's always been."

He gives her a small smile. No matter his inherent fears about what might go wrong in any given situation, he knows that he can put his full confidence in her when she's set on making something happen.

Not only that, but he has until tomorrow to plan what to say once the contestants arrive on the resort. For him, that's plenty of time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, it's been a while, huh?
> 
> I actually kinda forgot about this story until recently, and wanted to pick it back up. Really sorry about the wait! I'm working on a bunch of other stuff, but rest assured, I'm back to having this near the top of that list.

A new family has moved in across the street.

It's comprised of a husband, wife, and a son. A nuclear family, from what Shuuichi's seen on all the television he has and hasn't been allowed to watch. The boy looks to be about two or three years Shuuichi's senior, but there's no way to be sure. Every morning at the exact same time, Shuuichi watches the boy walk from his front door all the way to the bus stop. Of course, the window isn't nearly big enough for him to see the stop itself, but he has a general idea of where it is. The route the boy takes is the exact same every time. It's not entertaining. Shuuichi doesn't _get_ anything out of it, not really, and there are rarely any variations. He doesn't exactly know why he does it.

He puts a hand to the glass, new fingerprints joining old ones from days and weeks and years before. They paint an incoherent picture of how one copes with chilly isolation.

Or, well, he assumes they do.

As the boy from across the street makes his way down the steps of his house, Shuuichi circles him on the window.

_"Shuuichi!"_

The voice peirces up the stairs and through the ajar attic entryway and makes him jump, his finger lifting and his head jerking to the side.

Just his uncle. It wouldn't be anyone else.

His shoulders relax.

With a sigh, he moves from the crate he'd been leaning on and stares behind him.

"Coming," he calls back flatly, not bothering to raise his voice.

It doesn't matter that his uncle wouldn't hear him, but if he doesn't hurry down, he knows he'll just be in more trouble. The floorboards creak under his bare feet, dust coming up from under them as he steps ungracefully out to meet the source of his apathy. The light dangles and shifts in the slight wind from the cracked ceiling and he leans to avoid running into it. He's surprised that he's not a permanent hunchback - it's been some time since he's been able to walk through the place without ducking his head and raising his shoulders up to his ears.

When he meets his uncle at the bottom of the stairs, Shuuichi can see disappointment in his eyes.

"You didn't say anything."

Shuuichi shrugs. "I did. You just didn't hear me."

It's clear that the man wants to either give a spiteful retort or shake Shuuichi until he's at least a _bit_ more respectful, but he keeps his composure. Keeps it as well as he normally does, anyway. There's a certain exasperation in his eyes as he lights up a cigarette and breathes more smoke into the house. Shuuichi doesn't know how factories smell, but he's all too familiar with the stench of soot and rusty metal and assumes that a sickly combination of the two wouldn't be all too far off.

Both he and his uncle rub their dry eyes at the same time.

At the edge of Shuuichi's vision, he can see his uncle holding his keys. That, along with his formal attire - a dress suit, neat and clearly newly-bought shoes - it all points to him leaving for the day. He wonders in the back of his mind if that's normal for most kids, because he more often than not is under the man's strict supervision and is only left for the sake of work during the night. Of course, the times where he'll have to work in daylight do come, but they're sparing and rare.

This seems to be one of those rare times.

Just as Shuuichi opens his mouth to ask for confirmation of his theory, the man speaks up. "You get the house to yourself for a bit today. Won't be too long, just a few hours, so don't get worried or...something," and the way he trails off from that shows clearly just how little he believes Shuuichi actually would get worried. That's fine, because he has the right idea. Still, he continues. "Got a meeting; couldn't miss it even if I wanted to, and I _really_ don't want to. You're a big kid. 'M sure you can take care of yourself without me for a few hours. Just don't burn the house down, I guess, and all that."

It's the same few lines of dialog spit out as all the other times he's prepared to leave the house, with minor variations.

"Okay," Shuuichi says, eyes unfocused.

He's already on his way into the living area, signaling the conversation's end. His uncle doesn't seem to want to argue and makes his way to the house's front entrance.

"Have dinner ready when I'm back."

Shuuichi doesn't respond and listens to the door shut, then to the faint _chirp_ of the alarm system turning on.

 _Seriously_ , he thinks in passing, _what sort of alarm system is designed to keep someone in?_

Well, not like it actually matters to him.

He spends the majority of his time either watching TV or flipping across books that he's read ten times already, or going through the kitchen over and over and wondering what to make for them that night. The melancholic silence of the prison he could barely call a home has become normal for him, has turned into his day-to-day life. Though he more often than not finds things to pass the time, it all tends to drag on no matter what he occupies himself with. He's accepted this.

As the time in the day drains, so too does his energy, losing his motivation to uphold his consciousness.

He looks out the window again.

It's raining.

There's nothing particularly exceptional about this day, despite it being one of the rare times his uncle is out of the house. If anything, loneliness only serves to fuel Shuuichi's paranoia, despite how little chance there is of him being in any immediate danger. For all he calls the house a ward, it does as much of a job protecting him from the outside as it does to keep him in. A double-edged sword, he decided.

Eventually, he decides to make preparations for dinner. It's no surprise that he ends up making the most passive choice, but it still annoys him nonetheless.

It's a monotonous routine, one that reeks of passivity. He pre-mixes ingredients, slowly watches as the clock hands drag on, and cuts vegetables. His brain is a hazy pulp, gradually mixing into a white nothingness as he goes through the motions without thought or care. It's a spiral of black ink, saying nothing, meaning nothing.

And after a moment, he stills himself.

Shuuichi looks down at the knife in his hand and thinks to his uncle.

 _I could use this,_ the words enter his head without his volition. _I could get out of here with this._

It's the same thought he had when he first found his uncle's gun in his study.

He's attempted to and ultimately avoided killing his uncle more times than one before, having found ways to talk himself out of it every time. _You won't be able to get away with it. You'd just be trading one prison for another._ The doubt creeps into his mind swiftly to discourage him from making a rash decision. A decision he's wanted to make for years. His thoughts swim as he shakes his head.

After carefully placing the knife back in its block, he heads to his room to sleep off his emptiness until the sun goes down.

The next morning, after he and his uncle trudged through another dinner and when he finally climbs up to the attic and looks out the window, he doesn't see the boy.

In fact, he never sees the boy again.

* * *

Shuuichi wakes up with a kink in his neck, but he's surprisingly comfortable.

He recognizes a faint scent he hadn't before. Damp cinnamon sprinkled atop maraschino cherries, an artificial musk only possible through the chemical combination of spice-cented shampoo and sprayed perfume sweetness that makes his stomach churn in ways that are both overwhelming and addictive. It's not strong by any means, but he's close enough to wherever it's coming from that it's become horribly pronounced. Part of him wants to pull away and air his senses out immediately; that's the one he thinks is part of the real him. Another gives him a deep, undeniable urge to bury his face in the source of the smell, to fill his lungs with it as if it's as essential as the oxygen that comes with it. It bothers him somewhat that both feel just as valid.

"Are you...gonna get up anytime soon?"

The voice rings through his ears and his eyes shoot open.

Once he realizes where he is - on a plane, that is - and what exactly he's doing - that being, leaning and drooling on Kaede's shoulder - he jerks his head away. "Oh, s- sorry!" he chokes out, feeling his ears turn red. "I didn't realize - "

Her giggling cuts him off and only embarrasses him more, thought she doesn't seem exactly mad. "I just woke you up because we landed. You looked pretty peaceful, so I didn't wanna disturb you earlier."

It's nice of her to say, even if it does make him feel more self-conscious than before.

Movement catches the corner of his eye as he notices that the others have started to line through the plane's exit, disembarking from back to front. Kaito glances at him and their gazes make contact for a moment before they both look away, though Shuuichi immediately wishes they'd looked longer. He's wanted to talk to Kaito the entire time, even when he wasn't able to remember who he was, and that went for Maki and Himiko as well. They're likely the ones he's made the deepest connections with, the ones he's shared the most with, and not being able to talk to either of them makes him feel awful.

All things considered, they're probably his best friends. They've all been through a lot, lost the people most important to them, and became closer to each other as a result.

And for just a moment, he thinks he feels Kokichi staring at him until those purple eyes shift to glaring intently at Kaito's back.

 _Were they sitting together?_ The thought passes through his mind, but he doesn't give it much consideration, instead taking the opportunity to observe a sleeping Himiko being carried out by Gonta, as well as Kirumi and Ryouma looking rather engrossed in a conversation that Shuuichi couldn't possibly imagine they would be having.

"Something wrong?" Kaede asks, snapping him out of his daze once again.

He gives her a smile that's supposed to be reassuring, but he's sure it just comes off as tired. "Ah - well, I won't say no, but I think I'm alright. All things considered, anyway."

Her gaze softens.

"All things considered, huh?" she asks in a quiet voice. "Yeah, that makes sense, I think."

Shuuichi wants to respond, to say anything despite not knowing what it is he could tell her that would get that solemn and wistful expression off her face, but he stops himself when he spots Maki walk past. His eyes flicker to her and he gives a small smile. Though she doesn't return it, it's not like he's expecting her to, and the small wave she gives him is acknowledgement enough. Neither she nor Miu hesitate to get off the plane, but he can see that Maki's eyes linger.

They definitely have a lot to talk about. He's not sure when they'll be able to, but he thinks that catching up with her in a sense might make him feel more grounded.

Kaede gives a short laugh. "Oh, have...you been getting along with her since I've been gone?" she asks, tone hopeful after observing their silent exchange. "I _thought_ she had a good heart underneath all that ice. And, y'know, I feel like she's gotta be fine if you're getting along with her."

This time, his content look stays. "Yeah. If you got to know her more, I think you might like her. You have the opportunity to now, it sounds like."

Her eyes become more closed-off and serious when he says that.

The reality of their situation comes back to him full-force. Sure, he's joking about it, but is it _really_ a joking matter? If what Tsumugi said was true, it means they're going to be forced to spend a long time together, and it means that everyone in the real world thinks they're dead. _The real world._ It's so easy to revert back to the person he was in the game, but he can't help but feel like that's not who he _really_ is. In fact, he knows it isn't, but he hasn't been able to pick through the memories and figure everything out just yet.

He imagines it's the same for everyone else, too. _Real or not real. A lie or not a lie_. If it's this hard for him to distinguish between the two, he can't help but feel both sympathetic and empathetic at the idea that everyone else is going through the exact same thing. Maybe it's even worse. There's no way of him knowing, for now.

It scares him.

When the other passengers behind them clear the isle, Kaede quickly stands up and hurries out the exit.

Shuuichi watches her back as she leaves.

* * *

The fact that Shuuichi sticks to Kaede's side even after they've all gathered into the nearest building should irritate her, but it only comes off as endearing. That, in turn, pisses her off more.

_Why hasn't he gotten the hint yet?_

She thinks that, but she doesn't do anything to push him away.

 _You're pathetic,_ she thinks to herself, about herself.

It looks like a hotel lobby, the walls lined with windows and potted plants adorning the room. A circular couch sits in the middle, but everyone remains standing, as if waiting for some direction.

Which, in all fairness, they were _instructed_ to do.

"Well, it looks like we're all gathered here," Kaito says from the corner of the room, arms crossed and looking tense. The way he says it sounds like he's trying to coax out someone who'll explain away their situation in a satisfying way, or someone who'll get them out of it entirely.

His eyes, along with those of everyone else, are fixated on what looks like a television screen hanging from the ceiling. It sticks out in the middle of the lobby, just above what looks like an unattended reception desk, and lined up there are a number of cards. They seem like key cards you might find in a hotel room, but no one's made a move to pick them up and inspect them any further. Instead, they all remain standing, looking around at each other or looking at nothing at all and regarding the suspicious objects in the room nervously.

There's an air of anxiety, but that doesn't match the feeling of impatience that washes over them after a few minutes.

"Uh, yeah, just what're we supposed to do here?" Miu loudly demands. "I thought the blueberry-lookin' bitch was gonna talk to us! What gives?"

As if on cue, the screen sparks to life.

On the other side reveals none other than Tsumugi, leaning forward in the center of the camera with one hand on her hip and the other on the table in front of her. Rantarou sits to her right, fidding with a complex-looking keyboard and staring intently at something off-screen. Kaede can't see it very well from the distance, but it doesn't look like a normal one, and he seems almost as confused at whatever's captured his attention as Kaede feels about the whole situation.

"Glad the whole cast could make it! Not that I ever lost faith in my dear friends, of course," Tsumugi grins in a way that feels disgustingly genuine. It's like she really does consider herself to be friends with them. Kaede can't help but wonder just how far removed from reality the woman has to be to think that way. "And, well, you guys didn't have anywhere else to go once I got you all on the plane, but I digress. There's a lot I have to say, so please listen and save your questions for the end. I'll be willing to answer any and all of your concerns - and don't worry about time constraints, we've got the whole rest of the night, if it takes that!"

At that, Rantarou speaks up, raising an eyebrow and tearing himself away from what he's been focused on. "Uh, Shiro? It's already ten where they are. The 'rest of the night' won't actually be that long. Plus, we still have to make preparations for - "

Tsumugi puts a hand on his head to silence him, but doesn't take her eyes off the students. "Pay no attention to the man in the corner!"

At least Rantarou has the decency to look put off, though that turns to exasperated acceptance, like he's dealt with this behavior from her for years. _They're working together. He's just as guilty as her_. Kaede tries to mask the intense feeling of betrayal in her gut with anger and contempt.

It almost works.

The girl beyond the television opens her mouth to speak again, but a voice from the back stops her before she can begin. "Hey, hey, are you gonna make us play a killing game in real life now?"

Everyone turns their heads to Kokichi in apprehensive unison.

"I - okay, what did I _just_ say?" Tsumugi sighs, putting a palm to her forehead before throwing him an irritated look. "Questions after! The answer's no, by the way, in case anyone else wants to ask idiotic things like that. Actually, for the love of God, can you just try _really_ hard to _not_ kill each other at all? You'd be making my life a lot easier."

The ghost of a smirk creeps onto Kokichi's face, but he throws his hands up in faux surrender. "My bad, _Your Highness_."

She decides to pay no attention to the sarcasm.

"Back on topic," she says a bit forcefully, though keeping a smile stitched to her face, "Like I've already told you, I'm renting this resort for all of you to stay in for the coming year. Think of it like an extended, complementary vacation! Honestly, I'd join you if I could - and, y'know, if I wasn't sure you fucked up kids would kill me in an instant. You'll get food shipped in regularly and easy access to all necessities you'll ever have the need for, but please understand that I can't really afford to keep up general maintenance on this place. Not financially, I just mean I wouldn't trust anyone to."

Rantarou then chimes in, "It's just that the more people we get involved with this, the more likely it is that someone's going to leak the fact that you're all alive to the public. Better safe than sorry."

"Right! So don't be pigs. Or, y'know, just take care of your own areas. Speaking of which," she gestures with an open hand downwards, drawing their gazes back to the cards on the desk. "Each of you get your own room, though our three lucky winners get to stay in the royal suites! It's sort of like an extra perk. These key cards correspond to each of your rooms and they've got your names on them, too. Try not to lose them. That being said, I'd tell you all about the different activities and features in this resort, but I think I'll leave it a mystery. I'd be a lot more fun to let you all explore and find them for yourselves, don't you agree?"

"Not really, no," Maki responds flatly, likely voicing what most everyone else was thinking.

"Well, I would continue," Tsumugi ignores her completely and keeps talking. "But I think it'll be a lot easier to just skip to the questions and get those out of the way. Raise your hand if you've got a question and I'll call on you one by - "

She doesn't even get to finish her statement before everyone's hands shoot in the air.

"...one," her face falls. "Yeah, should've seen _that_ coming. Okay, let's get the worst out of the way first. Kokichi?"

Though his expression is neutral, she dreads what he says next. "So, I know we're not supposed to and all, but what happens when we try to leave?"

"You can't," she responds simply. "It's not possible."

"Yeah, okay, but what _happens?_ "

She gives a hard frown and shakes her head. "You - okay - no, what happens is you _don't leave_. I'm not saying I'm going to punish you or anything, because I wouldn't need to, because you _physically_ cannot leave. I've taken necessary precautions to make sure that it is quite literally impossible for it to happen. You get it? You're on a secluded island thousands of miles away from any civilization. It isn't going to happen."

Everyone goes silent. A dark air overtakes them.

 _They can't leave._ That should have been a given, something that they've known from the start, but...getting that sort of finite confirmation makes it suddenly feel more real than it felt before. Kaede thinks of the others, whether they can even afford to stay secluded from the rest of the world for an entire year, whether they have family or friends to return to back home. Maybe that doesn't apply to her, but she thinks it must to at least some of them. Sure, they've already been away from home for weeks, but _this?_

Regardless of how you look at it, it's just too ridiculous. Kaede doesn't even know how she's processing it.

"We - what about Gonta's - _my_ family?" Gonta speaks up, stuttering over his words as Himiko clings to his side. " _Our_ families?"

Tsumugi nods, like it's a question she's been expecting. "Your folks all know about this. Those of you who've _got_ folks, that is. They're under contract to silent about it. Don't you worry your pretty little heads about that," she pauses for a moment. "Well, I mean, those of you who don't have legal guardians are pretty much dead to the world, though. If you've got any friends on the outside, they think you're dead, too. But again, don't worry about that."

"How the hell are you expecting us to not worry?" Kaito yells.

"I have a question!" though something in Angie's tone is different, as well as the way she's been talking, her mannerisms seem the same as she gives a carefree smile with her arm in the air.

"Yes, Angie?"

The blonde scratches her head and looks down. "If our families know, I would really like to talk to my mother. Could I?"

Though Tsumugi moves to answer, Rantarou beats her to it. "I'm sorry, but that's out of the question," his face stays firm and detached, but there's something in the way he speaks that makes it sound like he really _is_ sorry, and Kaede notices that Angie's not the only one who looks both distraught and disappointed at what he says. "Your families might know about this, but we can't let you talk to them while you're here. Phone, internet, letter - whatever way you'd do it, there would be too much of a risk of someone else finding out about it, or intercepting the message, or that one of you would try to contact someone other than your family members."

Kaede doesn't really blame the two for not trusting the rest of them, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.

"I don't know what we're standing to gain by asking them all these questions," Kokichi says dejectedly. "I'd rather sleep. I mean, they're just deflecting everything that might get us any valuable information, right?"

"Haven't _you_ asked the most questions?" Kirumi raises an eyebrow, a frown evident on her face.

Despite that, Kaede wants to agree with Kokichi and end their pointless conversation, but Shuuichi speaks up before she can. "He's sort of right, though. We're reaching a lot of dead ends here. Let's just try to figure things out among ourselves, instead. It feels like they're leaving out information on purpose, so I'd rather come to my own conclusions."

She blinks at him in surprise.

"I agree with Saihara," Maki chimes in, her voice low.

On the screen, Tsumugi seems to approve of this and grins. "I think our little detective here has the right idea, too!" and though Shuuichi grimaces, obviously finding it distasteful, it only looks like she thinks it's more hilarious. "If you're that eager to get to exploring, I'll leave you to it! Don't worry if any of you have more questions, though. The two of us will be checking in periodically to make sure you're doing alright! And, y'know, that you haven't killed each other or burned everything down."

"Uh, wait, what?" Rantarou looks at her with deep worry. "That's not really a concern, is it?"

Instead of answering him, she reaches over the screen and leans into the shot.

A faint _click_ is then followed by the screen going black.

The silence is deafening.

That is, until Tenko's voice draws their attention. She's standing by one of the glass walls and pointing outside, observing all she's able to. "Oh! There's a pool out here. It's a little bigger than the one in the school was, maybe."

Miu is the first one to walk up to the desk with all their key cards, picking up what's assumed to be her own. "These _do_ have all our names on 'em," she states. "Pictures of the beach, too. _And_ they're holographic. Kinda cool."

" _Cool?_ " Maki asks incredulously. "I wouldn't say I'm all too excited to be living here, even if it _is_ a resort. We're supposed to be here for a year, right?"

"Well, I dunno," Miu shrugs. "Could be fun. Can't do shit about it, anyway. Might as well make it worth the while."

"You're being awfully casual about this. I thought you'd be more angry."

The inventor grins and gives an exaggerated shrug. "Whatever! I'm not sayin' I'm thrilled, but I'm not about to shout just 'cuz of that. I'm just happy we can get the fuck outta here _eventually_ , even if it _is_ gonna be a while before that happens," she suddenly frowns and averts her eyes, but continues. "At least you won, y'know? Be a little happier about that. Me, though? I'm alright with waitin' if it means I can get back to livin' my life. Like, I would've _preferred_ the money, but a bitch'll take what a bitch can get."

Weirdly enough, her words make Kaede feel a bit better, and they do a decent job of lightening the mood. Miu herself saunters out on her own, having seemed ready to leave as soon as possible the entire time. It's not perfect or anything, but it gets most everyone to pick up their own key cards and start wandering.

Kaede stares down at hers, uncertain of where to even start.

In fact, she's not really certain about much of anything right now.

Only one thing _is_ certain.

In the world they're living in, the world so much like fiction yet so clearly reality, each of them are set with the polar opposite task from before. Where they'd been instructed to kill each other in that fateful game for an unspecified period of time, they're now being forced to live peacefully with one another over the course of a year. One might think that the latter is clearly preferable, but Kaede knows better, and makes the assumption that all the others do, too. In fact, she thinks they're all on the exact same page with the sort of disaster this can bring. She sees it in everyone's darkened, contemplative looks - they're far from being functioning members of society, at this point.

Her heart pounds as she wonders if this will ultimately help them recover or, instead, hurt them.

"Well," Tenko pipes up again, her wavering voice peircing the silence. "Um...at least there aren't any Exisals?"

* * *

Shuuichi wonders briefly if the resort has anything to treat migraines.

He sort of doubts it.

The dining hall has a sort of familiarity to it, though it looks nothing like the one within the virtual school. It's pretty late, but they've all agreed to have a meal before turning in for the night. Well, it's more like Kirumi and Tenko insisted they all do. It's not like the majority of them really have the stomach to eat, but Shuuichi wonders if they're just trying to help everyone return to some semblance of normalcy. Gathering together to eat is what they've seemed to wordlessly agree is the most normal thing for the group, despite all the chaos and despair surrounding those very moments.

He appreciates their efforts to comfort everyone, even if it's been practically confirmed that they don't _really_ know each other. He thinks they must be good people. Of course, he doesn't want to jump to any conclusions.

Both he and Kaede have decided to sit at the table as the two worked in the kitchen. They spend time talking about trivial things - interests, their schools, their hometowns - but somewhere in the back of his mind registers that it's real information. He's finally getting to know the real Kaede, not some made-up version of her that she was contractually obligated to become.

She still likes classical music, but she's never played an instrument.

"I keep getting the urge to play the piano, though," she off-handedly mentions. "I don't know if I'd be any good at it. Maybe I still have that talent, even if it was just given to me."

She absolutely loves reality TV.

"Oh yeah, the other seasons of _DanganRonpa_ were great. The first few are the best, though. But that's kind of how it is with any show like that, I think. The concept just kinda wears off."

Something that's decidedly unlike her is how many self deprecating jokes she makes. Kaede calls herself shallow, materialistic, and it's just so hard to see her that way with how she talks.

 _You don't know her, stop kidding yourself, you're biased._ But the thoughts are overwhelmed by feelings of admiration.

Where the others are, Shuuichi doesn't know, and it doesn't cross his mind to care.

The only thing that rips his attention away from Kaede is when Kirumi comes out to set the table. He thinks momentarily about how similar she's been acting to the person she was within the show, but it's not like any of them have a very solid grasp on their personalities or who they're supposed to be. And still, it's not like he's one to judge. He's been having a hard time pinpointing the type of person _he's_ been wanting to act like, after all. Still, for someone who died, he wonders if it's that much more unsettling.

To his side, Kaede is staring suspiciously at Kirumi. "I don't get why you're doing this," she says, getting the attention of the others. "You aren't _really_ a maid, right? So what's the point in acting like you still are?"

Kirumi looks surprised at the comment, but a sort of understanding replaces that. "I...am only doing what I feel is most comfortable, for now."

That answer doesn't seem to satisfy Kaede, but before she can reply, Tenko speaks from the doorway, glaring at Kaede. "Hey, don't be rude! She's just trying to make everyone a nice meal, and _that's_ what you're deciding to focus on?"

Feeling sort of uncomfortable, Shuuichi decides to stay quiet.

"Oh, uh, r - right," Kaede responds after a few moments, looking guilty. "Sorry, I think I'm just a bit out of it. I didn't mean to offend you, Tojo."

"No offense taken at all," the former maid gives a small smile, returning to her task. "I understand how you feel, Akamatsu. We are all more than distraught, I would say."

They all fall silent until Tenko sets off to gather everyone.

The resort must not be too difficult to navigate, because within the span of maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, Tenko manages to successfully find the others and bring them back to the dining room. That, or none of them got very far in exploring. The majority of them state that they just went to their rooms, which Shuuichi figures he probably should've done himself. Maki states she tried to walk along the edge of the island to see if it really was entirely closed off, but never finished. Korekiyo quietly notes that he and Ryouma attempted to return to the plane, but found it had already left by the time they got there. Kokichi claims to have never even left the lobby and that he just took a nap on the couch instead of looking anywhere.

"I don't even think I picked up my key card," he says passively. "Oh, well."

Once they actually all sit down and begin to eat, the awkwardness starts to set in.

It's not the first time they've had to sit through an uncomfortable silence around a dinner table with each other, and it doesn't sound like it's going to be their last, but Shuuichi knows that it doesn't get any easier and that it probably wouldn't even if they did it a hundred times. Yet, there's also a level of familiarity to it, like it's making him feel better in even a small way just going through the same motions that he has been with everyone for the past while.

He hopes that it's doing the same for everyone else.

Then again, there's really no way to be sure, because he's far too busy staring at his food to pay any attention to what's going on around him. He thinks there's not much to miss, but something at the back of his thoughts starts to nag at him.

Eventually, the sound of a chair's legs scraping against the floorboards pierces the tension.

Kokichi stands up and walks out into the hall, looking particularly upset about something, though Shuuichi can't decipher what could have caused it nor if it's even genuine.

What's even _more_ unsettling, though, is when Kaito gets up, too.

It's not even a minute after Kokichi disappears down the hall that Kaito starts speed-walking and follows him, and while Shuuichi felt uneasy at Kokichi's expression, the fact that Kaito looked just as if not _more_ agitated is definitely grounds for concern. Shuuichi feels the urge to get up and go after them himself, but hesitates, not wanting to involve himself in something that has nothing to do with him. Maybe he can ask Kaito about it later. There's probably nothing to worry about.

But then - oh, _hell_ \- Maki stands and makes her way in the same direction.

Okay, yeah, _that's_ really disconcerting.

Shuuichi hears Kaede make a puzzled noise after he leaves his seat to catch up with the black haired girl.

Once he's at her side, she stops to look at him. "Were you worried about Momota, too?"

"Ah, yeah," he replies, since that's technically true. "I just wanted to see what they were up to. I don't really know what's going on, but I don't think it'd be a good idea to leave them alone."

Though she doesn't give a verbal response, she nods and the two make their way down the hall. He thinks that it's pretty understandable why she of all people would be troubled at the prospect. Of course, anything involving Kokichi is likely bound to get her feeling perturbed, considering how much contempt it's always seemed she's held for him. Shuuichi isn't sure if that's changed after all they've learned about him, but he'd certainly be surprised if she were to stop being weary of Kokichi altogether. Shuuichi himself is still quite weary of Kokichi, after all.

He reasons that they're more than justified in that.

To his right, he suddenly hears Maki make a noise of surprise.

When he looks over, he sees who's run into her.

It's Miu. She appears to have come from the other hallway and taken a turn just as they did. In that moment, he realizes somewhere in the back of his mind that she hadn't been at the dining table all throughout their meal.

"Woah!" her head snaps up, as if she were spaced out. "The hell? What're you guys doing here?"

The only reply Maki gives is to narrow her eyes at the end of the hall, clearly antsy to get back to pursuing Kaito instead of having a sudden conversation. He can sort of relate, not entirely liking the idea of leaving Kokichi and Kaito alone together, but his natural curiosity towards Miu's disappearance gets the better of him. Shuuichi takes it upon himself to respond, "We're following Momota and Ouma. We were just...sort of worried after they took off. But, what about you? I didn't see you anywhere during dinner and you seemed to go somewhere after Shirogane and Amami finished talking to us in the lobby."

"Y- yeah, well," the blonde tenses up and looks away. "I didn't wanna deal with seeing everyone's faces after they dropped _that_ kinda bomb on us. Can you blame me for tryna have some alone time?"

He can't, but that answer doesn't feel complete.

But before he can question it, just around the hall, a loud _bang_ makes the three stop on their tracks.

They all hurry to the source of the sound, and when they turn the corner, the sight they're met with is just what Shuuichi was afraid of finding.

Kokichi sports a challenging grin despite the position he's in, pushed up against a wall by Kaito as the taller boy grips the front of his shirt to bring them to eye level. They seem to have been caught right in the middle of a fight, or at least an intense argument, and their heated glares are locked and focused. It's enough to freeze Shuuichi and the two girls in their tracks, none seeming very sure of what to do or how to respond to what they've all just walked in on.

"I've had enough of this!" Kaito shouts. "Just tell me what's goin' on here!"

"How about you tell us _all_ what's going on here?"

Kaito and Kokichi both tense up at the sound of Maki's demand.

The two of them seem to back away from each other at the appearance of the three, though their hateful glares are still fixated on one another and their stances don't get any less hostile. They seem about two seconds away from one of them decking the other. Kaito finally tears his eyes away after a few moments and seems to open his mouth to explain, looking specifically at Shuuichi, but before he can, Kokichi pushes himself forward and grabs at the collar of Kaito's shirt, pulling the taller boy down and muttering something that sounds like a rude taunt. Though Shuuichi can't make out what's being said, more for the fact that Kokichi seems to be purposefully covering his mouth with the hand that's gripping the fabric, whatever it is makes Kaito's eyes immediately widen and his shoulders tense up.

In fact, it seems to have straight up _pissed him off_.

Without any sort of hesitation, Kaito backs himself up and swings his fist at Kokichi's face as the other three watch on in shock. Kokichi reels from the punch and he falls to the floor, and both of the impacts make Shuuichi flinch.

Though Maki makes a move to go after him, Kaito storms off down the hall before she can consider it. Instead, she shifts her focus to Kokichi, who's taken to rubbing his cheek, having not yet attempted to stand back up. She grits her teeth and looms over him, hands clenched into fists as she demands in a cold and low tone, "Tell me what the _hell_ you were saying to him."

"Huh?" Kokichi asks tauntingly, grinning despite the redness under his eye. He holds his hands up in faux defense. "Oh, I didn't say anything wrong. Your little boyfriend was just trying to give one of those inspirational speeches about how we can all ' _work together_ ' to ' _get better_ ' and I was just telling him how stupid that was. The usual."

That only enrages Maki further and makes Shuuichi frown in confusion.

For some reason, it doesn't sound right, but he's too tired to push that point.

Miu puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. "The fuck, dude? _Enough_ , already."

"What? I don't see why you're all being so passive about this," he insists, spitting venom as his eyes darken. He suddenly stares at them with open malice and rubs at the fading mark with his palm, looking much like a dog that's ready to bite. As always, it's hard to tell if he's _actually_ angry, but he's doing a damn good job of acting if it really is a lie. Not that it means anything, though. "Those two made us go through all of that _garbage_ for _nothing_. Did you find that killing game any more fun after finding out it was all just for some shitty TV show? That everything that happened was a total lie? Did that make the game entertaining, to find it out that it was _actually_ a game? Because, let me tell you, it sure as hell didn't for me!"

As he begins tearing up, whether real or fake, the three watch on in an uncomfortable silence.

To Shuuichi's surprise, it isn't Maki who lunges for Kokichi.

Instead, it's Miu.

"And just how the fuck do you think everyone else feels, huh?" she yells in his face, holding him up by his checkered neckerchief. He seems at least somewhat taken aback by this, eyes widening as his stare goes blank. "Do you think we _wanna_ just lie down and take it? Yeah, right! But what're we gonna do about it, huh? Kill each other for no reason? _Swim_ away? I'm just as pissed as anyone else about this, but if those two are tellin' us we can go home without all of that bullshit, no way am I taking any chances!"

For just a moment, the rest of them fall silent at her outburst. Even Kokichi seems to be at a loss for words.

"She's right," Shuuichi snaps his gaze over to Maki, who seems a lot more calm now than before and speaks with a leveled tone. "We should at least process this first and take action later, if any at all."

From the expressions on the other two's faces, they're just as surprised by her words.

Miu loosens her grip on Kokichi and raises her eyebrows. "Wait, I am?" And as if remembering who she is, she then goes back to glaring at the boy. "I mean, y - yeah! Of course, I am!"

Kokichi takes that opportunity to slip his way out of her grip. She lets out a yelp of surprise, but doesn't reach for him again once he's far enough away from her. He backs away down the hall and gives them all an irritated look, though it doesn't hold nearly the amount of loathing that it had when he was looking at Kaito. Instead, he almost looks sad, or even crestfallen. It's clear that he's trying to come up with something to say - a scathing comment, probably - but he scoffs instead. Whether it's aimed at them or at himself, Shuuichi can't quite tell, but he wonders if perhaps it's both.

"God, whatever," he whines with a lot less conviction than Shuuichi remembers hearing in his voice. "If you guys are gonna let this happen, then fine. I'll just have to do things on my own."

That doesn't sit well with any of them. Shuuichi especially.

Kokichi doing things on his own hasn't exactly ended well for any of them in the past. Actually, it's pretty much always ended absolutely horribly. But Shuuichi's not sure what he could do to keep impending disaster from happening, considering who the source is going to be.

Just as Kokichi starts to retreat, Shuuichi moves to reach out to him, but -

"Ouma."

Maki's voice makes Kokichi stop on his tracks and the other two look at her with surprise. Only serving to shock them more is Kokichi's own reaction, as the color drains from his face and he responds without looking at her. "Wh - what is it?"

She maintains a neutral face, despite how baffling her statement is as her gaze peirces into him. "Don't go locking yourself away from everyone else."

From the widening of his eyes, it looks like that's exactly what he was going to do. He seems to be sweating and purposefully avoiding her eyes, as well as those of the other two. Shuuichi thinks carefully and doesn't quite understand why _either_ would be acting this way, then wonders in the back of his mind if there's something about the situation he's missing. Maybe something happened between them that he wasn't there to witness. _Who knows_. Shuuichi lazily cocks his head to the side and tries to smother the thought because, ultimately, it doesn't have anything to do with him, so he shouldn't care.

He _shouldn't_.

But he does.

Maki almost sounds concerned. But about Kokichi, of all people? It doesn't add up. None of it does.

"Woah, okay, what?" Miu asks incredulously once Kokichi disappears down the hall. "What was _that_ all about?"

She's silent for a long time.

The three of them stand in an empty, quiet hallway, the only noise coming being a faint and indistinguishable chatter coming from the dining room. Maki's eyes are focused on Shuuichi and it seems as though she's considering whether or not to tell him something, though he wonders if the presence of Miu has anything to do with her hesitation. It's unclear if that's the case, but her discomfort only becomes more obvious by the second.

Eventually, Maki shakes her head and turns away, seeming somewhat downcast. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't look like he remembers, anyway."

_Remembers?_

"You're all fucking weirdos," Miu finally states, turning her attention to a nearby exit. "Whatever. I've got places to be."

It's only after Miu leaves the two of them that Shuuichi turns his full attention to Maki.

But before he can press her for more details, he's met with her withdrawn back as she walks to the dining hall. "Our food is probably getting cold," she says, almost sounding desperate to change the subject. "We should be heading back."

Instead of following her, though, he watches dumbfounded as she leaves.

In his mind, thoughts are swimming and dancing in a cacophony, leaving him with no answers and more questions. It's like everything he comes across only serves to confuse him more, to put him in a place of even lesser understanding, and while it's technically not even been a day he can firmly say that he's outright sick of it. There's nothing about the situation he's been pushed into that's been making it any easier for him, despite his constant efforts in trying to convince himself otherwise.

Shuuichi stands, isolated from everyone else both physically and mentally.

* * *

"They hate us."

"Come on, you're being overly dramatic."

"They're right to hate us."

"Seriously," Tsumugi gently tugs on Rantarou's hair, rolling over to him in her own desk chair as he types up her speech at his computer desk. Her tone's become a lot softer. "You're always too hard on yourself. We're doing our jobs as executives and they're doing theirs as actors. They signed contracts before all of this, remember? It's their own choice, and their own fault. They knew what they were getting into from the start. I mean, it's not as if we tricked them into doing all this."

He lets out a groan, unable to focus on the words in front of him anymore, and puts his head in his hands. "How? How could they have understood what they were getting into? _Really_ understood it? They're kids. They're just kids, Shiro."

Something in her demeanor changes and she backs away from him, bringing his near hysteria to a grinding halt. Her eyes have widened and her gaze is blank, like he's just said something in an alien language, or like her brain has hit a red light. Maybe he's actually left her speechless for once, though he can't exactly tell whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. At the very least, it means that something he's said is finally getting through to her. It's nothing definitive, but it's a start.

"Yeah, but," she starts slowly, gesturing to the both of them and sounding just as lost as she looks. "I mean, _we're_ just kids."

Rantarou frowns and looks away, staring into his own reflection on the screen.

She's not wrong, exactly, but there's still a clear disconnect between the two of them and the rest of the students. They have a lot more experience with the morbid side of life than the majority of the others, as well as the fact that they were at a considerable advantage within the virtual world.

Not only that, but Tsumugi is...unusual.

Everything about the way she affects his life both frustrates and comforts him at the same time, which only makes his feelings that much more confusing. Her invasive, pushy, over-the-top way of invading his space is sometimes so overwhelming that it consumes his every thought. And as easily as she sparks his anxiety, she can also calm him down. He wouldn't say that they're opposites or anything, but they certainly have enough different about them for it to _feel_ like they're opposites at times. Yet even throughout all of that, he sticks by her side, maintaining his illogical loyalty throughout the worst.

That all, of course, doesn't mean he agrees with everything she does.

On the contrary - he frequently questions the morals of his so-called _friend_. More than most should question their friends, he thinks. Not that he has much experience with that.

_Boy, that sure sounds sad._

But, well, it's not untrue. He doesn't have many friends. Any, really. Tsumugi is probably the one person he can without much doubt consider his friend, no matter how unorthodox it may be. His lifestyle hasn't left much room for interpersonal relationships.

 _And you just blew the only other possible ones you could've had,_ he berates himself, but stops and tries to think more rationally. He never had the chance to be their friend. It wasn't a possibility to begin with.

"Alright, Ama," Tsumugi gives a less than convincing sigh and sits on the desk next to the computer. "You gonna give me another lecture about how what I'm doing is wrong?"

Honestly? He might have had one planned.

But it's at this point that he realizes he's not going to get through to her. Not directly, at least. There's nothing he can do to shift her opinion or to make her understand that what they've done to these kids, what they've _been_ doing, is wrong. And even if he could, there's no turning back now that they've done what seems to be the worst of the damage. He can't change anything, can't _help_ anything, and he doesn't know if or how he'll be able to accept that.

She stands up, unwavering in her willingness to - well, he wasn't really sure. Annoy him to death? If she could do that, he'd be dead a hundred times over.

Still, she taps her foot impatiently. "You can't seriously be giving me the cold shoulder now."

He can, and he is.

He feels even a bit triumphant at that fact.

Instead of grilling him like he's used to, Tsumugi decides instead to roll her eyes and step past him. Maybe she's planning on doing something to him later, but he doesn't really care enough to think about that right now. Besides, he's got more than enough on his plate to worry about. With numerous meetings to plan for and finances to take into account, as well as the speech he's been slaving over for what seems to be ages, he's surprised that he hasn't already collapsed from the stress. But Rantarou is used to stress.

However, he is not used to having this persistent void at the bottom of his gut.

Head resting in his chin, he stares intently at the screen as the door slams behind him and he wonders if he really is as powerless as he feels.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear World: everything sure happens a lot
> 
> Hello again, I had a really hard time writing this chapter but it was fun anyway. I appreciate the comments & support more than I know how to convey?? Also my partner Chance commented on this fic and I wanted everyone to know I love them a lot

It's actually pretty pathetic that Tsumugi feels like she's going through withdrawal from the fact that Rantarou's ignored pretty much every attempt she's made at speaking with him.

Tsumugi starts shaking her leg impatiently and fiddling with her seat belt, entirely uncomfortable with the silence.

They've been preparing to meet with the head director of _Team DanganRonpa_ for quite some time, but Tsumugi still has no idea what to expect, and the fact that Rantarou's been avoiding talking to her has only made things worse. The taxi ride seems to be taking forever, if only for that exact reason. She's used to him doing the worrying for her, not being worried herself. Of course, the fact that he's prepared a speech for her should indicate that he's still perfectly willing to work with her, and that _should_ be enough. Unfortunately, it isn't. It very, very much isn't.

The idea that he might be mad at her leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and considering all that's been building up lately, she has a fairly decent idea of why.

"So, like," she starts, cutting through the dead air. She stops for a few seconds and looks over to see if he's even acknowledged her, but his gaze remains distant. _Ugh_. "I - I was just thinking, y'know? Uh, I know we said already that we shouldn't let the kids talk to their parents, or family, or whatever. And I sort of thought, that's pretty harsh. They're going through enough, yeah? I mean, I'm sure we could let them at least send a letter or something. We've just gotta be careful enough, and I don't really doubt that we can manage that after everything else we've done up to this point."

In the corner of her eye, she can see his widen in surprise. It's not an apology, but it can basically be considered one, coming from her.

Tsumugi's...not great with apologies.

Of course, Rantarou knows this.

And he opens his mouth and responds, "Really?"

"Well, yeah!" she excitedly says, the concerned crease in her eyebrows disappearing immediately. He almost laughs at that. _Sort of like an excited puppy_ , he makes note of, but decides that such a thought is a little weird and dismisses it. Thankfully, her continuing helps him keep his mind off it. "I mean, let's face it - this all is probably pretty shocking for them. And it's important for them to make a full recovery. The whole world thinks they're dead, after all, and it's not like they were _really_ expecting any of this when they signed up. This season was definitely a first, after all."

At that, he looks over to her inquisitively. "What are you talking about?" he asks, thoroughly confused. "I don't disagree that they didn't know what they were getting into, but that doesn't apply to...everything. I'm pretty sure they were all prepared to die. This isn't the first time people have actually died in _DanganRonpa_."

"Yeah," she averts her eyes and crosses her arms, pouting. "But this is the first time we've ever gone meta. No executive other than me has ever been in the public eye before! I mean, they _legally_ couldn't, because if their identities were out there I'd say the majority would be in jail by now. And God forbid they actually participate themselves and let people know they're controlling everything! Anyway, I don't think they expected this last season to be any different from the last. I mean, sure, a lot of our kids were little freaks who wanted to be in a killing game, but I bet they're regretting it now. Kinda funny, right?"

"Yeah, Shiro, you're killing me," he then gives a fake gasp and rolls his eyes. "Oh, wait, I guess it's too late for that."

Surprisingly, she tenses up.

 _Oh_. He stops and thinks. He'd just made the joke in off-handed jest, but Rantarou realizes just then what he's said.

Ha.

His own death.

Right.

The idea that she might actually feel guilty about killing him or - more likely - that she might think he holds some sort of resentment for her over it is unlike her. And honestly, that's not giving him much credit. He morbidly jokes in his mind that considering everything else she's done, killing him in some virtual world is relatively tame, but he refrains from saying that out loud.

He doesn't really know how to reassure her, so he leans on her side in hopes that the bit of physical contact will convey his lack of a grudge against her.

Not that he has the energy to hold a grudge against anyone.

"Come on," she nudges him with a frown. "You should be used to people trying to kill you by now."

He shakes his head, giving a grimace despite his relief that the mood's been lightened a bit. "Maybe because of this company, sure. Everyone's pretty cutthroat on our team, if we can even call it that. But the killing games themselves? Two of the ones I was in were staged. I mean, we didn't _know_ that at the time, but our lives weren't really in any danger. I've only been in one game where we were expected to actually kill each other," his voice lowers as he looks out the window, concern growing on his face. "And...the producer for that particular season is the man we're heading to see right now."

A short, tense silence befalls the two of them.

"The fiftieth game," Tsumugi puts a hand to her mouth in thought. "That one didn't last very long, did it? And he was only the executive for that season."

"He's the head director for _Team DanganRonpa_ , so I think it was just for the anniversary. I don't think he...enjoyed doing it," he states, as if he's trying to justify it in his mind. He gives her a wavering stare. "And besides, you know most people only last one season."

"Yeah?" she challenges sternly. "Well, you and I are about to change that. This is gonna be _our_ show. With the results we've been getting, nothing can stand in our way."

Just as she says that, the taxi stops.

Rantarou steps outside as Tsumugi pays the driver, staring up at the skyscraper. It makes him feel dizzy.

Setting sunlight reflects off the towering glass windows and he has to raise a hand over his eyes, the cool metal on his rings contrasting with the heat of the late summer day. There shouldn't be anything particularly special about this building, considering it looks just like any other business headquarters in the world, but the thought of who lies inside gives him a churning anxiety. Rantarou's probably not prepared enough for this. That being said, it's unlikely he's been prepared for much of anything that's happened lately.

His eyes are locked on the building even as Tsumugi joins him on the sidewalk and the car speeds away.

"Nothing can stand in our way, huh?" he asks, sounding thoroughly intimidated. "Not even Kyosuke Munakata?"

She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her warmth calming him down if only marginally. "Not even him."

* * *

Himiko isn't quite sure what she expected when she went up to her room for the first time. There was nothing in Tsumugi's speech to indicate that the place is anything different from a normal resort, if a little more on the fancy side.

Very much on the fancy side, it's turned out.

But the normalcy of it still just makes her feel uneasy.

Luckily, she's better than most at distracting herself.

"Maybe it can be nice here," Angie states, smile evident in her voice despite the fact that Himiko can't see it from her position. Instead, she sits behind the blonde, continuously brushing her hair despite the fact that she's already gotten the knots out. She sounds just as positive as she had in the game. "And it doesn't sound like it is going to be forever, right? Angie...well, I believe things will be okay."

She's been sporadically saying similar things all throughout the evening.

"These magazines are so outdated," Tenko complains instead of responding to or even acknowledging Angie's words, rolling over to lie on her back as she stares blankly at the pages. "These are, what, three years old? Four? It's like this place has been abandoned, or something."

That's not really an idea Himiko wants to be entertaining right now.

It's bad enough that the world - her _family_ , her _friends_ \- thinks they're all dead. But if they're somewhere no one would ever even imagine to look? The chances of them being found eventually should the one year time limit fall through one way or another would decrease dramatically. And considering everything else Himiko has on her mind right now, mulling over various possibilities that have no real merit is probably going to do the exact opposite of help. Not that she can think of anything that _would_ help, exactly.

Other than focusing on Angie's sweet-smelling hair.

That's doing a fine job, she thinks.

Himiko's never really understood comparing yellowish or orange colors to that of the sun because, from her experience, the sun's always been a blinding white. That being said, Angie's hair is pretty much _exactly_ like the sun.

She shifts her head slightly, bringing her eyes to Tenko. "Maybe they just haven't gotten new ones."

"Ah, that's probably true."

The three fall back into silence after that.

It doesn't last very long, though, because Angie starts to hum in deep thought. It's clear that she wants to say something, but she takes time to consider it before getting it out.

"You knew about all of this, right, Himiko?" she speaks, her sing-song voice flooding the previously comfortable quiet. "The show - our memories - all of it! I only assume that, of course."

"Huh? Uh, how do you figure?"

Angie shrugs, cocking her head to the side. "Well, you won! Right, right? Shuuichi said something like, _remember_ , about all of this to you. Did you find out about all of this? Did you want your real memories back?"

The questions make Himiko look down, head spinning.

In all honesty, she...wishes she could have gotten a choice on whether to get her old memories back or not. Maybe she would have chosen to, anyway. She's not actually sure what she would've done, if given free reign over that decision. From what she can gather from her jumbled up past - her _pasts_ \- her original personality seems much like who she ended up becoming. Maybe that was part of her real self shining through, but it may have also just been coincidental.

She's actually not quite sure.

Just then, Tenko speaks up, having abandoned her reading material on the floor. "Well, none of that matters to me," she states, sounding somewhat irritated. "Our real memories or our fake memories, that's not what's got me upset about all this. I just wish we had some say in who we were in the show. I don't get why we couldn't have been ourselves, or why we couldn't have chosen our personalities!"

Angie's still smiling as she turns back to look at her. "You do seem rather mad about that, Tenko."

"Of course I'm mad!" Tenko exclaims in response. " _Especially_ with how they portrayed Neo-Akido. It was disgraceful!"

Now that makes Himiko put the brush down and give her full attention. "W - Wait, you actually _are_ into Neo-Akido? Your real self is?"

The twin-tailed girl scoffs at the question, as if it's absolutely ludicrous. "Absolutely. Akido and Neo-Akido respectively are disciplinary arts, just in different ways. My Master and I have been working to perfect our version of Akido for years and they utterly botched it! Neo-Akido is more than just reckless defense or offense, it is a mutual experience where both sides are the attacker _and_ the defender! The connection you make with your opponent is tantamount to what Neo-Akido is meant to represent! Those two clearly have no idea what I meant when I tried to explain it in my audition video."

By the time she finishes speaking, she's standing on the bed and pulling at her hair, face contorted into frustration.

Angie hums once again with a blank expression, leaning back to Himiko and quietly speaking. "Well, she is certainly still hotheaded."

"Maybe some things are hard-wired," the redhead whispers, finally cracking a smile. Yet she frowns again and looks back to Tenko. "Oh, but by 'those two,' you meant - "

"Shirogane and Amami!" Tenko spits out, venom lacing her words. "Disgusting people, they are! I can't wait for this to be over so we can never see them again."

 _That's_ the ideal.

From Himiko's perspective, at least. She comes to the conclusion that the best thing for her would be to go home and try to readjust to normal life. She wants to forget that _DanganRonpa_ ever happened. More than that, she wants to forget all about Tsumugi and Rantarou, the two faces they can identify who've put them through this. It's easy to stick the blame on them, and really, Himiko can't think of anyone else to be angry at. Well, that is, other than _herself_ for wanting so desperately to be on the show in the first place.

_Why did I sign up?_

It's the question that's come to mind more than once, but she can't seem to pinpoint the answer no matter how hard she sifts through her real memories. It's like a file is missing somewhere, like one crucial piece in an otherwise complete puzzle box is nowhere to be found.

_Who would have chosen this?_

All of them, apparently.

Without warning, Himiko's arms wrap around Angie as she gives as good a hug as she can.

Angie lets out an, "Oh," and places her hands on Himiko's, leaning back. Even though Himiko mostly started this for her own comfort, the fact that Angie reciprocates so readily begins to relax her and it almost feels as though they meld into each other.

Before Himiko even realizes that Tenko's gotten down from the bed, she's already joining the other two girls in the embrace. The redhead feels one hand on her back and sees the other on Angie's shoulder, wrapped around her front.

None of them speak, resolving only to huddle together and cling to one another like mutual lifelines. For just a moment, Himiko thinks _yeah, this is all I really need_. She can shut her brain off from the chaos of her memories and recognize for just one simple moment that whatever she's looking for is never going to mean as much as these two do. It doesn't matter the limited time they've known each other, or even how much of their personalities are fake or real.

Himiko can live in this one moment and understand that what ultimately matters is the fact that the three of them can finally be there for each other.

Just as they finally pull away, there's a knock on the door.

"Please join us in the dining hall if you so wish, Himiko," they recognize the voice as belonging to Kirumi before they fully identify what she says. "I've prepared a meal for us all."

Sure, the normalcy of Kirumi's cooking is part of the exact thing that Himiko wants so desperately to forget and leave behind for good, but she comes to the conclusion that even awful things have decent aspects to them. Part of the cloud's silver lining, or so the saying might be. In fact, it was through the game itself that she's found people who she never wants to let go.

As they all decide to get up and head downstairs, Himiko finds it just a bit easier to smile.

Maybe, just maybe, things are going to turn out alright.

* * *

Kaito is under the firm impression that things are definitely _not_ going to be alright.

Okay, maybe that's a bit too extreme.

At least, things don't seem to be getting any better where his biggest frustrations are most concerned at the moment.

Throughout the entire dinner, he hasn't been able to bring himself to say anything. He didn't even greet Maki when he joined her, which he's sort of remorseful for, but it's a little late for that. Maybe it's that everyone's feeling particularly chatty that makes it so Kaito is feeling especially _not_ chatty, but hey, what does he know? It's a lot easier to fade into the background of everything when others are involved in their own little conversations and when most of the people he actually wants to talk to are busy talking to others. Though he admits, that's not _entirely_ fair.

There's still Maki, who's sitting right next to him and just about as silent. He wants more than anything to talk to her, to open up, to get her to open up to him, but there's always something in the back of his brain that stops him.

He knows what it is. It's fear.

 _Whatever_. He has plenty to be afraid of right now other than whether his own maybe-but-also-maybe-not-girlfriend would actually like him or not.

One other feasible option is Shuuichi, of course.

And Shuuichi is - well.

He's looking at Kaede like she's the only other person in the room, and she's stuck between doing the same to him and trying to act like she _isn't_ in fact doing it. Kaito supposes he can't really blame them for that. The guy's basically just got his dead girlfriend back to life, identity crisis be damned. It's pretty normal for a dude to be totally focused on the girl he likes when the circumstances are like that. Though, of course, it's sort of hard for Kaito to personally empathize with that. There's also the nagging feeling in his stomach that he can't quite put a name to, which he just outright ignores.

Kaito will get to Shuuichi later.

Again, _whatever_.

And, okay, yeah. There might be someone else on his mind, too.

But he can worry about that later, too. After all, he needs to think of what he can do to learn as much as he can about this island and about the two bastards keeping them there. By comparison, _this_ is actually quite the minor problem. It's no big deal at all. It's definitely not at the forefront of his thought process in the slightest.

"I...Gonta worries about Ouma," from the far side of the table, Kaito hones his hearing in on what Gonta says to Ryouma. "He doesn't seem to be around."

Kaito internally groans and tries to focus all of his attention on very aggressively eating his dinner.

Sure, Kokichi probably has the ability to hit Kaito the hardest where it hurts the most.

Sure, Kaito still wants to talk to him.

And sure, Kaito has a very consistent and unhinged urge to strangle Kokichi on a daily basis.

It's sort of complicated. He's been actively trying to make it _un_ complicated, but his success thus far is questionable at best.

Of course, Maki takes that exact moment to ask, "Why do you look like you're about to get up out of your seat?"

The question catches him off-guard because he really wasn't consciously planning on leaving, but he knows that he probably would have if she didn't say anything. He actually _does_ feel pretty impatient, sitting there and doing nothing while someone potentially dangerous is wandering around in unknown places. Maybe it's a lot more obvious than he's intending to make it out to be just how distracted he is and how detached he's been all night. He definitely fucked up by making Maki worry about him, so he figures that he at least owes her an explanation.

Or, he might just be using that as an excuse to finally vent to someone. But he shakes his head and pushes that possibility away.

"I just...it's Ouma," Kaito admits, unable to look her in the eye as he speaks. "He hasn't been seen at all. At least, not from what I know."

What follows is a short period of silence, then an exasperated sigh.

He looks up to find Maki's leveled gaze eying him up.

There's often a disconnect between the words that Maki says and the tone with which she says them. They frequently fail to match up with each other, making it hard to distinguish exactly what she means sometimes. And though her words sound more accusatory than anything else, she doesn't sound like she's trying to criticize his behavior when she speaks. "I gave you both space on the plane because I figured you probably had a lot to talk about, but I didn't expect you to start stalking each other."

Kaito chokes on his water.

"I'm - _stalking_ \- ? Harumaki, I'm not stalking him!" he vehemently denies, then widens his eyes. His tone goes flat and he raises a curious eyebrow. "Wait, he's stalking me?"

"That's not really what you should be focusing on," she sighs. "But even if you're not, it's not like you to be worried over him, of all people."

He notes that despite her words, her tone doesn't hold any sort of animosity.

"I'm...not worried," he states, but then lets out a breath and averts his eyes. "Well, alright, _that's_ a lie. But it's less that I'm worried about him and more that I'm worried about what he might end up doing. I can't really understand what it is that he's thinking or planning and - I mean, maybe that's put me on edge, on top of everything else that's been going on. But no, I'm not worried about him."

For a few seconds, Maki studies him. She looks away, her gaze becoming distant, and rests her chin on her hand. "I am."

He understands what she says, but considering the full context, it's not something he manages to wrap his brain around.

"What?"

"Forget it," Maki turns her gaze back to him, her eyes softening just a bit. "If that's the case, you can go after him all you want. I get you being suspicious of him. I know I definitely am. And he's wrong about what he said. It's _not_ stupid at all to think we can work together to get better. A bit idealistic, sure, but that sort of idealism might be what we need to get through this."

"Huh?" Kaito turns to her with a somewhat surprised look. "What, he said that?"

She blinks slowly.

Her eyes narrow. "That's...what he said to you a few nights ago, wasn't it? In the hall?"

 _Oh_. The hall. His mind goes back to that, having nearly forgotten, and he gives a nervous laugh. "Ah, right, that. It doesn't matter what he said at the time. Whatever type of shit he tries to pull, I think we'd do well to just ignore him."

 _Speak for yourself,_ he imagines her voice disdainfully in his head, but she doesn't give that sort of response.

Instead, she just says, "But ignoring him means we're just letting him do whatever he wants, right?" and the fact that she's agreeing with the part of his brain that's been trying to rationalize his current fixation is certainly _not_ helping. Or maybe it is. Maybe he really is justified, after all. "I don't think I can accept that. I'd rather you be keeping an eye on him than all of us just turning a blind eye to things that he may or may not be doing. This isn't something I want to just leave up to chance, so go ahead and do what you want, if it means protecting everyone here in the long run."

"But that's just it - I've looked for him everywhere!" Kaito exclaims, clearly frustrated and stabbing at his plate with his fork. "I can't find him at all. I mean, we're on a fucking island. He really couldn't have gone that far."

"What about the edges of the island?"

He leans back in his chair and gives her a questioning look. "The...edges?"

"I checked them before when I tried to find a way off. There are trees surrounding some of the far edges of the island," she replies simply. "They're pretty secluded and it's hard to see past them. If I wanted to hide from everyone, right at the high shores are where I'd be. Like I said, if you want to go after him, you can. Just let me know what happens afterward, alright? Try to tell Saihara, too. Or anyone. The more people you tell, the better. You can't close yourself off and deal with it on your own, or else you might end up getting yourself in trouble."

He frowns in response, wanting to reach out to her about those words. Maki seems to be speaking from experience. "You're - "

But before he can ask her about it, she cuts him off. "Just don't be reckless. That's all I ask."

Well, he can't promise _that_.

"I'll be careful," he says instead, and she nods as he stands, seeming to accept that answer.

Though his movement goes by relatively unnoticed, there is one person whose eyes shoot over to Kaito as he makes his way out of the dining hall.

Shuuichi.

 _Ugh_. Kaito almost stops, but decides against it and wills his feet forward. He doesn't have _time_ for this.

He shakes his head and turns back to his objective. After all, he has all the opportunity in the world to talk to Shuuichi and get everything sorted out later. There's still a lot Kaito wants to say to him - a lot he's _regretted_ saying - but there's no use worrying about that when he's got other things to think about now. That doesn't stop the worrying, of course, but it at least helps keep him from going back inside and pulling Shuuichi away so they can finally just talk. Instead, he keeps his head up and walks toward the outskirts of the resort, not quite sure if he even wants to find what he's going out of his way to look for.

* * *

Kirumi Toujo would firmly assert that she is not often afraid.

This is no exception. She wouldn't describe what she's feeling as fear. Nervousness, probably. The feeling of being nervous can be applied to many things. Anxiety, possibly. One can be anxious out of instinct, or for irrational reasons that are utterly out of their control. Fear, though? Of course not. Kirumi has no excuse for feeling fear and she disagrees with even the notion that she could, right now. That word is not in her vocabulary in this particular situation.

Because, honestly, who would be afraid at the prospect of someone they've killed asking them to spend time together?

Well, she does admit that it's a rather unorthodox situation.

Just after she finished her meal, she went back into the resort's kitchen, only to find that Ryouma had followed her there. She wants to make the claim that she was backed into a corner, but in reality, he simply asked to meet him in the entertainment room and left. That was the extent of their conversation, essentially.

Which means that Kirumi had no obligation to follow through with his request. She wants to blame her willingness to meet with him on her fake memories, making her more inclined to listen to others, but she knows within herself that it doesn't really have much to do with that.

Perhaps it's curiosity.

They spent time talking about their predicament while on the plane together. It was very surface-level complaining and quite the aimless discussion, but it was nice to get it out to someone who more than understood and who seemed ready to listen. Ryouma's a wonderful listener, she's come to realize. He's also good for intellectual conversation, which she doesn't remember taking much notice of while they were still in the show. Maybe if she'd taken more time to get to know him personally, she might have come to understand these things sooner.

Does that mean she regrets killing him? Not necessarily, no.

That in particular was a calculated decision based on the information she was given at the time. That doesn't mean she identifies it as being the ' _right_ ' thing to do, just a result of her being given no better options.

But now she's on her way to hang out with the exact person she's murdered based on that decision.

Maybe she's just an idiot.

Well, _no_ , that's probably not it.

But before she can come to terms with any sort of satisfying answer, one that might explain why she's not ignored the invitation entirely, she makes it to the entertainment room and slides open the door.

It is, essentially, what the name would suggest.

There's a large television on one side of the room with various couches and chairs facing toward it. She can see various gaming systems hooked up to it, as well as machines that look like they belong in an arcade at different sides of the room. Just to her left is a Pai Sho board, while a large rectangular table fills the space in front of her, taking up the center space with board game boxes stacked high. And just like nearly every other space in the resort, windows adorn each of the walls.

But what really draws her attention is Ryouma, who seems quite relaxed in the far corner, clearly waiting for her.

Despite herself, she approaches him.

"Chess?" she questions him gently, but sits across from him anyway. "Hoshi, this doesn't seem to be your type of game."

Ryouma shrugs and begins setting up the board, white pieces on his side and black on hers. The pieces seem to be made of a type of glass and slightly transparent. "It isn't," he admits. "And if I were to guess, it's probably not your type of game, either."

She doesn't argue with that. Though she knows the rules, the game never quite interested her on any sort of level beyond superficial. She vaguely remembers only ever learning it on a dare, because it was something so out of her realm of interests, and then she'd never played again afterward. Maybe part of who she'd been in the show would have been more inclined to take it up if she'd been given the time. As she is now, she's torn between the two, but allows Ryouma to lead regardless.

It's not a very exciting game. That is, neither of them are particularly past the point of being beginners. She doesn't even care that he's focusing hard on her F7 because, honestly, she doesn't care about losing.

Instead of putting her focus on strategy, she looks at him.

"For what purpose did you want me here?"

His eyes lift from the pieces to her face as he raises an eyebrow. "Why do you think?"

The question seems genuine, like he really _does_ want her take.

Kirumi gives it serious consideration, looking out the window nearest her and leaning her head against the cold wall, but it makes her slightly irritated regardless. Instead of tiptoeing around the subject, she resolves to confront it head-on.

When she finally speaks, she turns back to make eye contact with him. "You wanted to talk about what happened, right? About me killing you?"

Her words hold a type of weight that doesn't seem to faze him at all.

"Not really. If you want to talk about it, then talk about it, but I didn't ask you to come here to interrogate you about something that doesn't need to be discussed in the first place. I already knew what was going to happen to me, after all," he states without hesitation or malice, shattering her expectations of what he'd been thinking the entire time. Though she'd believed as much about what he'd done in the show itself, inferring from his actions is far different from getting verbal confirmation. "What happened in the show stays in the show, I'd say. Besides, there's no use in dwelling on what we can't change."

Her suspicion lifts significantly, but it's now been placed with a sort of disbelief. "You don't hate me for murdering you?"

"Well, you didn't seem like the insecure type," Ryouma jokes, though neither of them laugh. "If me hating you is what you're worried about here, then _I_ worry I haven't been getting across what I've wanted to. I'm not interested in holding grudges. Having bad blood isn't something I want any part of. You get it, right?"

She sort of does get it, but it's still not something she feels like she deserves.

Sure, Kirumi might not exactly be able to regret what she's done, but there's a lingering guilt that just won't go away. It's screaming at her now, saying she can't accept this, saying there's nothing she's done to warrant this.

So, she decides to deny it entirely, shaking her head. "What about me makes me seem like a safe person to be around, exactly?"

At that, Ryouma lets out a sigh. "You think I'd be on edge about you trying to kill me again? Well, I'll admit that anyone in my position would be paranoid about that no matter what and no matter who they were or who killed them, but I don't think it'd make sense for you to do that," he reasons logically, like he's already come to this conclusion long before they even started talking. And, for that matter, he very well might have. "That's sort of why I'd mostly like to get to know you as a person, instead. Didn't get much opportunity to do that while we were in the killing game."

He gives her time to process that, to allow her to make her own choice on how to react.

Much to his surprise, she begins laughing.

It doesn't last very long, but Ryouma makes a mental note of the fact that he doesn't recall ever seeing her laugh.

Not as fully as this, at least. He doesn't even know if he's seen her smile this wide.

"This has been nice, but I should go back," she says reluctantly once she catches her breath, eyes fixed on the moon. He doesn't doubt that she's being genuine by saying she's having a good time. Her gaze reflects back at her through the glass. "The others should be done with dinner by now."

Ryouma nods in response, taking his fingers off the piece he'd just been ready to move. "I'll go with you. Might as well help you clean up."

Her content expression falls to a puzzled frown. "Now, what would be the purpose of that?"

"I'm no expert on having friends," he replies in a way that seems more like he's just stating a fact rather than making a self-deprecating comment, "But I do think friends tend to help each other out, even if it's not necessarily for a specific purpose. And anyway, correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem a lot more...laid-back than before. Does that mean this is your real personality?"

Her _real_ personality?

Now, that's something to laugh at. What's a personality but something she can shape for herself?

"I will admit that the concept of being a maid is likely the furthest thing from what I might have originally liked or wanted. I believe it was one of a few talents I'd suggested as a joke in my audition," she speculates, though the memory itself is fuzzy. "However, a sense of duty and structure are - well, they're new to me. I don't believe they're things I've ever had in my life before. Though I may not agree with what's been done to all of us, I...would like to keep these attributes. Serving others, making those around me happy, protecting them; these are all things that have turned out to be surprisingly fullfilling."

A small smile grows on his face. "Come to terms with things, have you?"

"More or less," she agrees, then stands. Before Kirumi realizes what she's doing, her arm is already extended forward and she's offering her hand to Ryouma.

The warmth of Ryouma's hand is similar to that of what she can remember feeling around her friends. Her real friends.

Or, perhaps _real_ isn't quite the word to use.

It dawns on her as they leave the chess pieces behind and allow their game to eternally freeze in time that perhaps the friendships she can value here are just as valid as the ones she had beforehand. They might just be real in a different way.

* * *

"Okay, the email he sent you was pretty vague, right?" Tsumugi asks, frantically cleaning her glasses if only to make sure her anxious hands were busy with _something_. "I'm not saying I don't have faith in you, but I'm a little concerned that my speech won't do much good here."

To be perfectly honest, Rantarou is just as unnerved.

"We've been here a while. It has to be nighttime by now," he makes note of under his breath.

The room they're in isn't particularly small, but they've been waiting in there for quite some time, which has made it feel a lot more claustrophobic than it actually is. Rantarou reasons that it probably has something to do with the fact that it's almost entirely dark, being lit only by the security camera monitors behind them and having no windows in sight, as well as the large table that takes up the majority of the space. It's probably an area reserved for important meetings among those within the company.

Suddenly, the intimidation he felt before begins to flood back into him. But at least he's taking it better than Tsumugi, who's been rather busy downing her third can of coffee that evening.

He moves from the wall he's leaned against and uncrosses his arms. "Okay, I think you need to slow down. We can't have you bouncing off the walls while trying to talk to the head of the corporation we work for."

As he talks, he moves over to her and places a hand on the drink.

"W - Wait a second," she responds, pulling away instinctively. "I'm almost finished with it! Just let me - "

Her indignant attitude frustrates him and he tightens the grip on the drink. "Okay, seriously, you're going to give yourself a heart attack or something," he insists, nearly beginning to wrestle it away from her as she struggles even harder. They end up leaning back onto the desk, Tsumugi's head hitting one of the screens. "We need to be focused when we talk to him! That's enough!"

"I _will_ be focused! Just - h - hang on!" she yells, "We're going to - !"

Before she can finish her protest, the drink falls from both of their hands, landing directly onto the controls, followed by a very loud series of _cracks_.

A few seconds pass, both in stunned silence.

Still pressed up against each other, they look back at one another, then at the board. The two repeat this a few times over, not entirely sure of what they've just done or what the consequences might be. Rantarou can even swear that he sees sparks coming from the keys and that at least one of the screens flickered, just a bit. It's dark enough that it's hard to see the liquid anymore, but it becomes fairly obvious fairly quickly what's just happened once reality catches up with them.

They've just damaged a piece of equipment.

A piece of equipment belonging to the highest higher-up that they could possibly have in their field.

"That - okay, that cannot be good," he says somewhat breathlessly. Unsure of what to focus on, he turns back to her. "I...thought you said you were almost finished with it."

"Um," she chokes out, averting her eyes. "Relatively speaking?"

Finally, he moves away from her and places his head in his hands, beginning to quickly pace around the room as he lets out a groan. "Great!" he yells sarcastically. "Oh, no, this is perfect. Absolutely amazing. I'm so glad we came here! I'm sure _nothing's_ going to stand in our way of convincing him to let us have more creative freedom next season, oh no, nothing at all. This is going to go perfectly."

"Let's just...calm down and pretend that didn't happen!" she says with obviously fake cheer, picking up the now empty can of coffee from the floor and pocketing it.

"Oh, we are _fired_ ," Rantarou hisses out, the color draining from his face as he runs a hand through his hair. "We are _definitely_ fired."

The sound of the door opening is deafening.

Fear spikes through the both of them, and though it doesn't disappear at who they see, what little dissipates is turned into bewilderment. It's not Kyosuke Munakata, nor is it a figurehead within the company that either of them are exactly familiar with, not that there are very many they can identify by name. Though, to be fair, they're well aware of the fact that many of the people within the company purposefully keep their identities hidden. Rightfully so.

Which means, of course, that the unfamiliar young blond man in front of them who looks like he hasn't slept in weeks might hold any sort of title imaginable on the team.

"State your name and your business, please," he says in a timid yet somehow stern tone, almost monotone, eyes focused on the clipboard he's holding and the papers he's sifting through instead of either of them.

Tsumugi folds her hands in front of her and frowns. "Um, who let this random hardass in here?"

" _Oh_ , my God, we're so fired," Rantarou immediately whispers, looking to the floor.

The tired man just blinks at her, seemingly unimpressed, and goes to respond.

Instead, though, a harsh voice responds from the doorway. "There's no need for that, Mitarai."

"A - Ah," the man, evidently named Mitarai, steps aside respectfully. "Alright."

 _Okay,_ Rantarou thinks to himself. _Now is the time to panic._

"I'd rather neither of you panic," Kyosuke states calmly, stepping into the room. "We're only here to discuss business."

Rantarou starts panicking more, but hides it better.

Tsumugi adjusts her glasses and nods, seeming far more put-together and composed than she had just a minute ago. Her posture is much more professional and her eyes are focused, though he can still see that her hands are shaking. "You're right," she responds with more conviction than he can remember ever hearing from her before. "I've been needing to speak with you since the moment the latest season ended."

The white haired man nods back at her. "It must be rather important if you wanted to meet with me personally."

"It is," Tsumugi confirms. "I'd like to make a request."

Both of them take a few steps back as Kyosuke makes his way across the room, circling the table and taking a seat in the single office chair, crossing his legs. Despite them being physically on a higher level, it still feels like he's looking down on the two of them. His close proximity to the clearly broken control panel also makes them nervous, but they try to hide it, assuming he won't notice in the dark if he doesn't try touching it or looking at it too closely.

"Go on, then," he says, gesturing to her with his hand.

Tsumugi clears her throat and straightens her back, making a conscious effort to look as business-oriented as possible. It's hard to tell if it works, though, because Kyosuke's judgemental stare still grazes right through her. "Since the beginning, _Team DanganRonpa_ 's number one priority has been clear and unchanging; audience retention," she pauses, noticing the seated man raise an eyebrow. "A - And rightfully so! Keeping our views up is what keeps us alive, I'd say. It's the whole reason we rise above all other reality TV shows and take the number one spot. But it's important to understand that we don't exactly have a lot of competition, either. I mean - how could we, right? We're the only organization that can pull this kind of thing off! But even so, I'm sure you've noticed our receding numbers over the years. Sure, there have been spikes here and there, but the big picture is that we are losing our viewers."

"Oh, would you get to the point, already?" Mitarai asks scathingly under his breath.

At that, Kyosuke holds a hand up, which silences the blond and makes him tense his shoulders. "No," he says simply. "Let her say what she feels she needs to."

Tsumugi and Rantarou look to each other, both just as anxious as each other.

"Uh, w - well," she stutters out. "Again, I'm sure you're well aware of all that. The point I'm trying to make here is that our numbers for this season have skyrocketed. I very much believe that keeping the two of us on the team will guarantee that our series stays alive. As for my request, I ask for more creative freedom in the structure of the next season, should you allow me to host again."

She lets it hang in the air and lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Kyosuke Munakata stays utterly silent for a few moments, seeming to digest her words thoroughly. It gives Tsumugi hope that he might be taking her seriously

And when he finally does speak, he ends up shattering her expectations entirely.

"Let me get this absolutely clear," his words are deliberate and slow as he uncrosses his legs and locks his fingers together. He leans forward in his chair, slightly hunching his shoulders. "You have so little comprehension of how this organization works that you genuinely believe I will allow you full control of _my_ men after the blatantly reckless acts you've performed. You believe what you've done in this last season to be acceptable instead of borderline illegal and dangerous despite you refusing to heed my very easily understood directions from the get-go. And, most importantly, you're under the impression that I will allow you to pursue a career _any_ further within this company after you've placed all of our livelihoods in jeopardy."

Not...quite the reaction she'd wanted.

She gives an uncomfortable smile, staring in a dumbfounded limbo. "U - Uh, what?"

"Right now, half of our audience thinks we've actually killed our cast members. The other half is determined to find proof that this is all some elaborate hoax," Mitarai pipes up, holding both of his hands out to demonstrate the two possibilities. Tsumugi's frown deepens as she considers the possibility of her plan being utterly ruined, and so quickly at that. With a sigh, he continues. "I know you can't possibly see how the former is a bad thing, but we need to ensure legal action can't be taken against us. All the lawyers in the world can't help us if we're sued for this, unless we plan to let key members of the justice system in on it, and even _that_ is risky."

"Your misguided mindset of ' _having your cake and eating it, too_ ' will be your ultimate downfall if you're not careful, Miss Shirogane," Kyosuke makes air quotes, further deflating Tsumugi's ego as he systematically builds a case against her. "We can only keep up this little charade if there's no public proof either way, and there's only so much controversy you can stir up before people try to dip their own hands in."

"This - " she starts absently twirling her own hair as she desperately reaches for any reason in her mind to defend herself. "No, hang on, that's not - "

Rantarou decides then to speak up, attempting to keep his voice as calm as possible. "With all due respect, I'd like to remind you that this is far from the first time _DanganRonpa_ has sparked controversy, nor can this even be considered the most controversial season of the show. I'd even argue that the season _you_ hosted received more backlash than ours," at that, Kyosuke narrows his eyes at the green haired young man, but Rantarou continues despite something clearly passing between the two of them. "Yes, the circumstances are different, but - "

Kyosuke is shaking his head before the defense is even finished. "Far more than what you seem to understand, it appears. You compare yourselves to past producers, even including myself, yet you miss the fundamental difference between us. The difference between you and every other _DanganRonpa_ producer before you, for that matter," he leans forward in his chair and stares at Tsumugi intently. "You've purposefully made yourself public. Everyone _knows_ you were the one in charge of this season, and thus you're the first person everyone will go to for information. People are _already_ demanding interviews with you. Do you see your fatal mistake here?"

His statements drop in Tsumugi's head like bombs.

She's not even sure how to begin to process the true meaning behind his words, let alone form a response. To the side, Mitarai isn't quite smiling, but the smugness is clear in his eyes. Tsumugi looks to the floor and tries to stop her mind from racing so fast, from filling her brain with a million things at once, to no avail.

What at least partially helps is Rantarou clearing his throat, which does a decent job of grounding her in reality.

"It sounds a lot like you've already made a decision on the two of us," he says, resolve clear the way he speaks.

It's more obvious to Tsumugi now than ever just what direction this conversation is going in, and she's slowly beginning to realize that her entire world is crumbling down around her. The world she's been working to build and maintain for as long as she can remember working alongside those within the company. This company that she's poured her entire being into, the field of work she's absolutely sold herself to, is only just now seeming to be her ultimate downfall.

_This can't be happening._

The only thing that snaps her out of her spiraling mental state is Kyosuke speaking again.

"I've no further business with the two of you," he states plainly, continuing to show them no ill will despite how hard the words hit. "I do hope this situation blows over once your _game_ is over and done with. All you need to do is keep your heads low and stay out of the public eye. That way, you might be able to get through this disastrous situation without much trouble befalling either of you or our company. I wish the best for the both of you."

Short and sweet, to the point. Concise.

It infuriates Tsumugi, but before she can even think of a response, Rantarou puts a hand on her arm and speaks instead. "We understand. I'll inform you of any updates as the situation progresses."

Regarding him particularly, Kyosuke nods. His eyes linger, as if he has something to say to the younger man.

And he definitely _does_ open his mouth to speak.

It's just rather unfortunate that this is the moment he chooses to rest a hand on the control board behind him.

* * *

It feels to Kokichi like he hasn't seen the stars in ages. The real ones, that is.

Though it's not like he can really pinpoint an exact moment that he's looked at the stars. He knows that he's seen them before, many times, but he's been actively pushing back his old memories ever since they woke up in those damn pods. Or, as he considers it, the longest nap in the world.

A nap that really wasn't satisfying at all.

Also, one where the dream changed your entire personality and went on for weeks.

Maybe that's not the greatest analogy.

But he doesn't really care, because he's a little too busy formulating his plans on what the hell to do. He of course already knows the basics of his course of action, but he's having difficulties getting through the details, considering - _well_ , he would say that it's because he's alone, but isn't that what he's used to? Every one of his plans has succeeded for the sole reason that he's been able to do what he wants, all because he's been forced to take care of things alone. Why rely on others? They're just liabilities, more helpful as pawns than as partners.

And the time that his plan _didn't_ succeed was when he worked with someone else, right?

Faces start flashing through his mind.

His _friends_ , he realizes.

His teammates.

His partners.

Because he _hasn't_ been alone his whole life. Because it's the exact opposite. Because he _isn't_ used to working through things without others.

Because -

"Apparently, Shinguuji's looking for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Kokichi jumps at the voice, understanding immediately who it belongs to. It's the guy who hasn't known how to let him be from the very beginning, who's been pestering him from the very start. Things might have been easier to deal with if Kaito Momota had decided to just leave Kokichi the fuck alone, but he just couldn't do that, could he? The biggest reminder of the killing game is right there in Kokichi's periphery at every moment and there's practically nothing he can do about it.

Isn't this just confirmation of that?

Even when he tries to find the most secluded area on the entire damn island, Kaito finds him. He's just a walking, talking reminder of everything Kokichi's trying not to think about. The killing game, the polarizing class trials, _his own death_ \- it all comes crawling back into his mind every time he looks at the guy and he hates it. He hates just how much attention Kaito's been paying to him because he doesn't want it.

He never asked for it.

 _He doesn't deserve it_ \- alright, that's probably going too far.

"You can't actually think I'm going to talk to that freak," Kokichi says, trying not to convey his absolute displeasure at Kaito's sudden appearance.

It doesn't seem to get through, since wannabe astronaut decides to take a seat right next to him.

What the hell kind of right does he have, exactly, to be invading Kokichi's bubble at every turn?

"Can't really argue with that," Kaito responds with a shrug. "He didn't really say what he wanted, either. I didn't even realize he wasn't at dinner. But he walked up to me when I went out looking for you and said he wanted to talk to you."

That's a good opening, Kokichi thinks. "And why exactly did you go looking for me?"

As the water quietly shifts below them, Kaito gives a passive shrug. "Well, I've got one reason, at least," he starts, narrowing his eyes at Kokichi. "Maki said something to me earlier about you saying we shouldn't be working together. She said it was a few nights ago, in the hall. I don't understand what she meant by that, because I don't remember you saying anything like that when we were talking."

"Duh," Kokichi responds, because Kaito can't _seriously_ be so stupid as to not realize what's going on. "That's the reason you had for acting pissed off at me and punching me in the face."

The taller boy scratches his head as he replies slowly. "Uh, no? You _told_ me to act pissed off at you and punch you in the face."

"Yeah, that's the point."

"I don't understand that point!" the taller boy hikes up his shoulders in frustrated confusion, raising his voice. "You were really pissing me off, and you _still_ haven't answered my question. All I wanted to know was why you wouldn't open up to me - and anyway, if you just didn't want anyone else to know what we were talking about, you could've told me and I might've gone along with it!"

At that, Kokichi rolls his eyes. "Oh, _might've_. Come on, I didn't trust you at all to go along with whatever I said. Saihara was there, after all. He probably would've seen right through our lie if you were involved."

Even though he clearly has an issue with it, Kaito doesn't argue. He seems almost to deflate.

"I just...don't understand why you're avoiding me."

The vulnerability of those words makes Kokichi feel more than uncomfortable. "Maybe I'm just avoiding you because I'm still sad that our little plan didn't work," he whines in an overly dramatic tone. And he tries not to show it, but he internally curses himself at the word _our_. It was _his_ plan. Kaito was a willing pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. Just a participant. Nothing more and nothing less, because Kokichi does everything alone and that's how it's always been.

He wills the faces that appear in his head away.

They don't exist to the person he is, now.

There's something nostalgic in Kaito's eyes as he gives a sigh. "Well, I definitely wanted it to, but it's not like I expected that it would work deep down. I had a feeling that Shuuichi would see right through us," he stops, then looks to the waters far below them, stamping one of his dangling feet against the rocks. "Actually, it's more like I had faith that he'd reveal the truth. That's what he does, after all. I don't know about the person he might've been before the show, but that's the type of person I know him as."

Kokichi doesn't even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Cool air flows across his face and he forces a smile. "That's what we have in common, huh? We both have faith in our _beloved_ Saihara."

" _Ugh_ ," the loud groan catches Kokichi somewhat off guard. He looks over to Kaito, who's looking at him like he's just grown another head. "You keep saying shit like that about him, but I don't get it. Do you _actually_ have a thing for him?"

Well.

That's a question Kokichi wasn't expecting to have to think about anytime soon.

"Oh? Well, now that you mention it, I might," he says in a vaguely sarcastic tone. "Why? Are you _that_ judgemental, Momota?"

It's at least somewhat entertaining to watch Kaito stumble over himself, trying to make an excuse or explain away the accusation. Kokichi wasn't exactly expecting that Kaito would be so up in arms about it, but it's funny enough that he doesn't try to say anything else and just waits to see what happens. He doesn't think about the fact that it's one of the first times he's been able to distract himself from the mess inside his head.

"N - No, that's not what I..." Kaito trails off and gives a groan, looking helpless, like he's not quite sure how to defend himself despite clearly wanting to. He runs a hand through his hair. "I might've been like that before the show but...I'm definitely not like that, now."

The way he says it, with a little laugh during the word _definitely_ , makes it sound like there's something important that Kokichi's missing from those words. But since Kokichi has a clear objective here, he doesn't risk getting sidetracked just to push that line of questioning.

 _Ha_ , just kidding.

No way is he letting that go.

"Uh huh, and why's that?" Kokichi asks with a smile that almost feels genuine. "You do know that you're not actually the person you were in the killing game, right? Maybe you like the person you were in the show better, but that doesn't mean that's who you are."

"And why can't it be, huh?" Kaito challenges.

The shorter teen stares at him blankly.

"Um...what?"

"I _can_ be the person I was in there, because that's the person I wanna be. I know who I used to be and now I'm making the decision to be who I am now," before Kokichi can even think of a response, Kaito keeps talking, frowning and crossing his arms. "Y'know, I'm starting to think that Shirogane was right. A little, at least. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed off, but it really _was_ our choice to do all this. I've started to accept that me being involved was my fault and mine alone. We willingly signed up for all this bullshit, and now we gotta deal with the consequences, whatever those might be. It's why I'm deciding on who I am based on the person I know I _want_ to be. It's why I'm taking hold of my identity and my future!"

It feels as though they just look at each other for eternity, as if their eyes are doing battle with each other in place of their words.

Eventually, Kokichi raises an eyebrow and scoffs. "Right, okay. I guess someone as stupid as you might think that way."

As if anticipating that sort of response, Kaito gives a bark of laughter. "Then what's your excuse?"

"Um, what?" Kokichi asks incredulously, somewhat caught off-guard at the question.

He's not expecting when Kaito leans forward, bringing their faces just inches away from each other. "I'm not gonna pretend I knew who you were before the show, but I do have a hunch you were different. Do you actually like the person they made you into better?"

_Oh, fuck you._

That's what Kokichi wants to say, but instead, he just takes on a manic grin. "Maybe I do! But hey, maybe I was a lot like this even before the show. It's not like you have any way of knowing. But if you're just looking to see if I'm fine with the way I am, then the answer would obviously be, _of course_ I am."

"That really true?" surprisingly, Kaito doesn't falter. Instead, his gaze just gets more intense than before. "Or is it just easier for you? Is it easier to treat everyone else like shit and to keep trying to put them in danger just so they won't feel bad about treating you the same way?"

It's not hard to keep up the childlike and faux-cheerful tone of his voice because, really, acting is what he's best at. But even so, it's difficult to keep himself from rolling his eyes at how pointless this entire conversation is turning out to be. Kokichi sits upright again and leans his head on his knee. "That's so mean, Momota. I might not seem like it, but I really do want to protect everyone here! Well, you probably don't believe me when I say that, so - "

"Actually, I _do_ believe that," Kaito cuts him off, glare still just as intense as before, and Kokichi's mouth slams shut. "I know that you care about everyone, I just think that you're an asshole and I fucking hate the way you do things."

Kokichi's mind starts to burn at that.

Without his consent, his insides begin panicking.

 _I need to get off this fucking island_ , is the first thing that comes to mind. _Or away from this guy, at least._

"I don't know what you want from me. I don't even know why you're here at all," Kokichi states, hating himself afterward for how honest that is.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing I really _want_ from you. You're obviously shaken up by this whole thing," raising his arms to gesture vaguely, Kaito leans himself back. "And I think I am, too. We...all are."

Kokichi's tone turns suspicious as he eyes the other. "If we all are, then why put your energy into me? Why not focus on the killer girl? Why not on Saihara?"

It's almost irritating how much time Kaito takes considering that question. No, actually, scratch that - it is _very_ irritating. It's a lot like Kaito hasn't even considered that at all, the fact that he can just shift his focus onto literally anyone else so he doesn't have to be bringing the both of them to this sort of constant push and pull, the fact that he has the option to just allow the two of them to ignore each other's existence and go on with their lives. It pisses Kokichi off in a way he knows he can't ever openly express. Not to the extent he feels it, anyway.

It's hard to even fathom just how little thought Kaito's even given to any of this.

And it only gets worse once he opens his mouth.

"I will, eventually," Kaito begins hesitantly. "But...you just seemed like you needed the most help out of everyone here."

That just...

 _That_ sets Kokichi off. More than anything else he's heard that night, he thinks. And that's saying something. Of anything else in the world, he can't handle pity, and especially not if it's coming from Kaito. The very last thing he wanted was for Kaito to find one of his stupid, illogical reasons for sticking to his side, because Kokichi knows well enough that there's nothing he can do about it at that point.

"Help, huh? You want to _help_ me?" he asks, finally unable to hold back the malice in his voice. "Well, if you _actually_ want to help me, you'd better be prepared for what I've been planning to do."

There's a bit of satisfaction that fills Kokichi when he sees the panic rise into Kaito's eyes, but there's also something else - disappointment, he thinks - that he tries his damnedest to smother.

When Kaito speaks, he almost seems to shrink back. "Planning? What...have you been planning?"

Kokichi stands up just then. It's like he can sense the apprehensiveness coming from Kaito, and rightfully so. It's clear that at this point there's nothing he can say to justify his own ambitions, regardless of how Kaito's _acting_. He then reaches his arm out and his grin turns far more maniacal, though he vaguely remembers how to make it look as if it's not forced. It might seem at first to be an inviting gesture, but his fingers are curled like a claw, and he has zero expectations of the other boy to take the hand.

Even through his question, he's readying his walls.

"Why don't you help me destroy this place?"

* * *

Miu's always thought it easy to compare mechanical engineering to cooking or baking. It's basically the same thing. Y'know, in a way.

You follow a recipe, make alterations where they're necessary, all that jazz.

Maybe it's not exactly the same. Who cares?

The point is that the same rules apply to the both of them. There's more than enough to be said about how you're expected to follow directions and go by the ingredient list. And yeah, you can substitute out some stuff, but you sometimes get to the point at which you just _can't_ have the finished product you want if you're missing a certain component or tool. Anybody with more than one brain cell can understand that some things just can't be replaced if you're trying to be careful, or if you're especially particular about getting exactly what you want when you start on a project.

And Miu definitely is. She's more than anal about getting what she wants.

Maybe that might not've applied quite as much before she became the incredible inventor she is now, but still.

None of that really has anything to do with the fact that Miu's just found a gigantic underground base beneath the apparent "resort" they've all been forced to stay in, though.

It's just, y'know, that little fact has been throwing her for a loop more than she wants to admit.

She'd noticed something off about the place the moment their plane got close enough. Or, more specifically, she remembers seeing something strange; a sort of shed, off to the side of everything else that seemed pretty out of place in comparison to the extravagant appeal of the rest of the resort. It almost looked run down, like a place that would belong in a horror game rather than anything else.

But she'd never in the Goddamn world expected to find an elevator.

Not much else was in there. Just an elevator, and one with only two buttons at that.

Maybe if Miu were in a better state of mind, she might have talked to someone about it instead of going to figure things out on her own. She'll even admit that it was a really awful decision to go into the elevator and try to use it without even talking to anyone else first, without at least letting someone else know. Not that she should give much of a shit. Even if she ended up dying, it's not like it'd make a difference.

Cuz, well, she's already technically dead.

It definitely dawned on her once the doors shut that the elevator shaft might have become her tomb, but she didn't expect that the ride down would take four minutes.

Four fucking minutes.

You might not consider four minutes to be a long time, but if you were to count it out loud, it'd feel like a fucking eternity.

It's...spacious.

Moreso than she could have ever imagined.

It's hard even to see the ceiling.

There's a faint smell of rust from everywhere around her and it feels as though there's a draft coming from some unidentified direction. The place is so big that it's hard to think that she's still technically on the island instead of across the world, or something. The place is empty, looking like a sort of abandoned factory. There's an access platform just to her right, as well as a blank set of screens lining the entire wall to her left. It looks much like a work area, though it clearly hasn't been used in some time.

If she wants to give the people who used to maintain the place any sort of credit, it at least looks organized, despite her not exactly understanding all of the construction equipment littering the area.

Her nails line the letters on a metal sign, just on the side of the stairs.

Residual dust coats the tips of her fingers.

_'AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'_

She then runs a hand down the side of a compact excavator - but, hell, there's more than enough room for a dragline.

Those little analogies are especially helpful because, if she were telling the truth, her real self would probably be more inclined to have taken up cooking or baking instead of all _this_. Not that any of this is exactly in the realm of what she's got experience with. She - or, y'know, her _fake_ self - is a lot more used to working on smaller contraptions and the internal hardware than whatever any of _this_ is for.

It might look impressive to anyone who isn't Miu Iruma.

From her perspective, it's just a bunch of fucking junk.

Miu huffs, unable to make a connection between anything that she's seeing here. "So, this is some kinda subterranean...working facility?" she whispers to herself, though her voice carries through and echoes throughout the air. "I don't get what this is all for, though."

"Allow me to explain!"

" _Fuck_!" Miu shrieks, whipping her head around to the source of the voice.

She's _definitely_ not expecting to see Kiibo's giant face on the center screen behind her.

_...What?_

"O - Oh! Uh, sorry for startling you, Iruma," he apologizes, frowning and looking a lot less intimidating than he actually seems due to the size of the screen he's projecting himself on. He then gives her a friendly smile and his voice becomes much more confident. "But since you wanted to know about this place, I figured I could explain it to you."

Explain?

Yeah, a number of explanations would definitely be nice right now.

The thought crosses her mind, _does this guy actually know me?_

But honestly, that should be at least question number _ten_.

About a million different things run through her head, a bunch of shit she knows she's gotta demand of him. Nothing seems to add up to her and every bit of sense she's been able to find in this situation completely shatters just from this one incident. Sure, she's been wondering about where Kiibo's been since they all woke up, but it hasn't been so heavily on her mind that she ever expected she would have found him when she went to investigate the shed.

Least of all did she think she'd find him when she ended up coming down here.

Well, at least he's giving her plenty of time to respond.

"Yeah, okay," she finally says, taking her hand from her chin and placing it on her hip. "You have got a _fuck-ton_ of explaining to do, actually."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so, I really didn't mean to make this chapter like 20k words long it just kind of happened. I imagine future chapters probably won't be this long, but considering this was more of an accident than anything else, I can't be totally sure. 
> 
> REGARDLESS I hope you all enjoy, and I wish you all happy holidays and a wonderful new year!

"Um, y'know, I was expecting I'd end up in jail at some point in my career," Tsumugi says as she adjusts her glasses, "but I really didn't think it'd happen this quickly."

Kyosuke Munakata is, in fact, lying dead on the floor.

Rantarou's had experience with death before. Lots of it, actually. But it's not like it's stopped being shocking when it happens out of the blue. And for the most part, he's witnessed death more after it's already occurred rather than right as it's happened. Not to mention, being used to something doesn't always make it any easier to deal with. He's not very knowledgeable about actually having a hand in a murder - _well, there was that one time_ \- but, he wouldn't say that it's his specialty or anything. And he certainly wouldn't say that he's able to get any enjoyment out of it.

Not anymore, at least.

But now isn't the time to be thinking about all that, or to be reminiscing about things he doesn't actually want to remember, because he's only just barely registering what he just saw. Death isn't usually so silent and swift when it's this unexpected.

And yet, when Kyosuke's body seized up and he tensed his entire body, looking almost like he was choking, not one of them reacted immediately.

Everything went by in a flash.

He'd already slipped out of the chair, straight onto the tile, and the sparks that electrocuted him were long gone.

It doesn't take Rantarou very long to figure out the series of events, though he certainly wishes he could be wrong about it. In fact, it seems a rather cut and dry situation with no possibility of there being an alternative. The drink - his and Tsumugi's struggle - the sparks coming from the control panel. It's easy to see what led to what and the implications of that aren't pretty. They're something that Rantarou's still trying to wrap his brain around, something he can't just reject no matter how much he wants to.

Kyosuke was essentially their boss's boss, and they just killed him.

And just like that, a loud - _BANG -_ reverberates through the room.

"Wha - "

When he looks over, finally able to tear his eyes from Munakata's motionless dead body, he sees Mitarai collapsed over with a small amount of blood spilling from his head.

And just above him is Tsumugi, holding the legs of one of the metal chairs. Just on the back of it is spattered blood.

Rantarou feels for a moment like his brain's been broken.

There's a loud crash as Tsumugi drops the chair to the ground and looks back up at him, their eyes meeting. He can clearly see that she's in immense distress, her chest heaving as if she's hyperventilating, but he can't care in the slightest. It's like he starts seeing red, like he doesn't even register the conflict on her face in a way that makes him give a shit at all, and his body starts tensing up in rage. It's obviously visible in the way he starts to stare her down, because she immediately opens her mouth to speak.

"Um, alright, let me explain - "

Without thinking, Rantarou turns to glare at Tsumugi with more contempt than he's ever felt for her in his life. " _What the hell is your problem?"_ he yells into her face.

"Alright," she says with a frown, though her anxiety seems to be waning. "First of all, rude. He's - he's not dead. I know he isn't, I kind of have experience with causing death due to blunt force trauma."

Well.

Rantarou coughs and looks away.

She certainly has a point.

"Second of all," Tsumugi continues, seeing that her words are at least doing something to calm him down. "I'm...sure we can get out of this. Somehow. I knocked him out so I could buy us some time, alright? We've been in situations worse than this one. We just need to think."

_We just need to think._

_Think_ , huh? As the adrenaline starts to kick in, Rantarou wonders if thinking right now is even totally possible. In the productive sense, at least. He looks back down to the dead body, as well as to the unconscious body, like he's double checking and triple checking just to make sure that what happened wasn't a dream. It wasn't some illusion or a game. It's a real thing that they're going through and their actions, whether intentional or unintentional, are actively having detrimental consequences on the direction their lives are heading. It's almost surreal.

His irrational brain thinks, is Kyosuke gone yet?

Nope.

Still there.

"Ah, he's dead," Rantarou moves to sit on the table, attempting to collect himself. "He's...we killed him."

"I guess it would've been a lot easier if he wanted to meet with us alone, but this outcome isn't really the worst."

"But, we didn't mean to. We definitely...didn't mean to."

"Oh! So, does this mean we're still fired?"

"Shiro, I will _pay_ you to stop talking."

"Sorry, sorry," moving over to join him on the table Tsumugi gives a smile that's all too comfortable. "Only trying to lighten up the mood."

He's not even sure how she's able to do that. After all, it's Rantarou who's fully experienced more than one killing game, so it should logically be _him_ who's more used to death. But then he remembers just how dedicated Tsumugi's been to _DanganRonpa_ from the very moment he met her, how much energy she's expended to keep the series alive, and just how much death _she's_ experienced throughout her life - that which he has full knowledge of and that which he's still in the dark about.

There's probably still a lot that he doesn't understand or know about Tsumugi, despite how close he feels the two are. She's actually pretty reclusive when it comes to her personal life and talking about herself.

Giving a sigh, he runs a hand down his face and tries to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach that he's unfortunately started to become rather familiar with. "If they find us down here like this, we're dead."

Tsumugi is already shaking her head before he's finished with his sentence, clearly believing he's just being paranoid again instead of saying something he knows to be the truth. But considering his own track record, he really can't blame her for thinking that way. Still, it annoys him a bit when she speaks as if she's brushing him off. "Don't be so dramatic. Yeah, we'd be in a lot of trouble with the law, but I'm sure this is something we'd be able to think our way out of."

"I really don't think you understand - they'll seriously kill us, no question about it," Rantarou insists it as a fact that he's more than aware of. "There's no way they'd bother with the legal system when it comes to us. We'll all just be added to the long list of unnamed dead people already underneath this place."

His conviction gives her pause. "Unnamed...dead people? Wait - underneath _where?_ "

Rantarou's breath catches in his throat.

Maybe it's the fact that the situation they're in is so stressful that makes him say really reckless things. It almost looks like Tsumugi's finally caught Rantarou on something, but he thinks quickly enough to relax his shoulders and raise an eyebrow. "Ah, Munakata mentioned it to me in an e-mail. He said it casually enough that I just figured it was common knowledge among the people who work on _Team Danganronpa_. Though, it _was_ the first time I'd ever heard about it."

It's definitely not the first he's heard about it. But Tsumugi's either not feeling entirely observant or she's just too confused by what he's asking to notice his lie. "H - Heard about what?"

"The morgue," Rantarou clarifies, his tone darkening along with his face. "The collection of people who've died in this company that they're hiding beneath this place."

He's not sure how she has the audacity to look shocked and disgusted by that.

Surprised would make enough sense, of course. It's not like it's something Rantarou was expecting to find out about when he'd first heard about it from Kyosuke. But it made more sense the more he thought about it, considering what kind of a corporate entity they work for. That sort of morbidity is rather fitting, he thinks, and he's not entirely sure if he knows of a better alternative. That being said, Tsumugi's done enough awful deeds. How can the horrible be horrified?

He feels sort of bad for thinking that. It's not like he has a right to judge her, since he's just as bad, if not worse.

Shaking her head, Tsumugi blinks over and over again in confusion. "What kind of company headquarters...has a morgue?"

"The kind that has to keep its employees' identities a secret," Rantarou starts. "And at the same time revolves around their deaths."

Tsumugi purses her lips and gives a sigh. "I mean, I _guess_ I sort of get it."

But even as she says that, he can see the wheels in her head begin to turn. Her eyes narrow in concentration the way he's seen happen countless times before and, in his experience, it can't be a good sign. Maybe it'll end up being good for them, but definitely not good in general. Y'know, morally. As if Rantarou's actually bothered himself with morals in his recent life.

"What's between this room and the morgue?" she finally asks, turning her attention to him.

He doesn't like where this is going.

"Not a lot, I guess," he replies with a heavy sigh. "This is the security room for the entire headquarters, and I'm pretty sure it's on the lowest floor - and if I'm right, there should be a way to access it through the other end of the hall we came down to get here."

Rantarou realizes that with the way he's putting it, he's making it sound like he's just pulling assumptions out of thin air. For all she knows, he's never been here, and he's not supposed to know anything about the layout of the building. That's why his continued certainty in his words makes her look at him suspiciously. He understands that he's earned that type of suspicion and, though he can give excuses all he wants, there's nothing he can say that would clear him entirely.

Just as she opens her mouth, whether to question him or to move on with her piecing together of the puzzle that is their problem, the blond figure on the floor stirs.

Mitarai's groan echoes across the walls.

"Oh, you're awake," Tsumugi states simply, giving him her undivided attention. "That's good."

Before Mitarai can ask, it's Rantarou who speaks up and says what's on both of their minds. "It is?"

Her blue hair shifts as she makes her way over to the man on the floor and leans down to put them both at eye level. Even though she's no longer standing above him, he's still looking at her with a panic that says he's more than intimidated. Rantarou can't really blame him. Even he doesn't know what she's doing.

"You're going to have to tell me if there's anyone on the floor above us," and then, she lets out her plan like it's something they've already decided on, and Rantarou is left speechless. "We're setting fire to this room and anyone up there is gonna know for sure, way too quickly, and I can't let even _one_ person find out what I've done here. You probably want to protect the people in this building, right? You might not trust me, but I don't want to cause any more unnecessary death, either. So, you'd better tell me the truth."

 _Fire?_ But Rantarou doesn't have enough time to process that, because Mitarai is already stuttering with anxiety.

"There - there's no one up there!" he yells hastily, voice cracking. "It wouldn't even matter if there was, anyway. We're...this security room is connected to an underground tunnel leading to the mountainside in the east, so we're technically not even in the building anymore. We're underneath it. _All_ of what's on this floor is. It's just that the elevator is connected to what's down here, that's all. W - We're far enough down that it'd take a few minutes for any kind of - kind of _smoke_ to reach, but..."

He trails off in a hoarse daze, but he's already said enough. The _underground tunnel_ part is what catches Rantarou off guard the most, and he can tell from Tsumugi's reaction that it didn't go unnoticed on her part.

When she clasps a firm hand on his shoulder, he instinctively flinches and stares at her in wide-eyed terror, like he's witnessing evil incarnate. Her voice drips with a sickening sweet poison that would make the blood drain from his face if there was much left to begin with. "Mitarai, you've been a big help. Thank you."

He tries his hardest to glare at her and spits out a hurried, venomous response. "B - But, they'll find you. I know they will. The rest of _Team DanganRonpa_ won't rest until you're taken out of the public eye and killed for this. Don't you get that? You're dead. You're both dead."

"I'm not worried about that," her smile doesn't falter. "I don't plan on _any_ of us making it out of here."

And with that, she brings the heel of her shoe down _hard_ on his already bloodied head.

If Rantarou didn't already fully understand what it means to feel fear, he's sure that this very moment would be more than enough of a wake-up call.

When she turns to look at Rantarou, she immediately understands that her words have sparked concern in him, and that her actions have clearly shaken him. It's surprising how easily she's able to twist her expression from that of a madwoman to one of a normal teenager, no matter the circumstances, even as red drips from her feet and as the silence of the room makes everything they've done feel so _real_.

There are a lot of questions on Rantarou's mind, but one sticks out among them all. "Were...you being serious about that?"

It takes her a moment to figure out what he's referring to.

 _"What?"_ her eyebrows shoot up incredulously. "God, no! Of course not! I just said that so he'd think we're dead, just in case he survives."

Even though that should make him feel a bit better, he looks down to the presumed corpse with apprehension. "Do you think there's a chance he could survive?"

"There's always a chance," she replies, and he knows that she's not wrong. They understand better than anyone else how fickle life and death are, as well as how often one can cheat death itself, despite how unlikely it may seem. He honestly can't say he'll be surprised if that ends up being the case. "Precautionary measures _always_ need to be taken, even when they don't seem necessary."

With what little information she's given him, he tries desperately to piece together everything she wants to do, whatever she thinks might get them out of there. He imagines it'll be something dangerous, something that'll end with them putting their lives in danger, and he wonders not for the first time nor for the last what he's agreed to by sticking by Tsumugi's side all this time. It's not even about regret anymore, it's just sheer stupidity. He doesn't have the luxury of regret.

Hell, he feels a headache coming back.

As he tugs at his hair and tries to keep the stress at a minimum, he looks over the bodies once more. "You said we'd burn this room down?"

"Er, well," she starts, clearly just trying to gauge his reaction. "It would probably be a lot easier to just burn the entire building down."

His hands drop to his sides and he jerks his head to look at her in shock.

"Which...we're _not_ going to do," she continues, but he's still upset that she's seriously considering that. Maybe she can sense that, because she immediately tries to shift the subject from the topic at hand, putting her hands on her hips and looking down at the floor. "God, I guess we really do need to get those dead bodies, huh? I'm starting to regret planning this, considering what we have to do. But oh well, I guess that's the price you have to pay sometimes."

Really, her nonchalant behavior can do wonders to make his stomach turn. "How are we even going to set this place on fire?" maybe his complaints and protests have grown to be annoying, but it's not his fault that whatever she's got plotted is full of holes. "We've got nothing to use. No matches, no lighters - "

He cuts himself off at Tsumugi's intense stare.

Eyes averting, he can feel himself start to sweat.

She knows.

How long has she known? His fingers brush against the metal lighter in his right pocket. When he looks up, she's holding out her hand expectantly, expression unreadable. It's hard to tell if she's disappointed in him or not, but he reasons that she probably wouldn't be in this situation regardless, due to the fact that said lighter is essentially their ticket out of here. How long?

Even though he hesitates, he ends up handing it over anyway.

"We'll talk about _that_ later," Tsumugi flicks the lighter on and lowers her eyelids, looking less than sure of what she's doing but steady in her determination to sticking to it. It's clear as the tiny flame whips in the air that the hope either of them had for their future is long gone, and the hesitation that Rantarou was feeling before gradually dwindles down to nothing. "It's time for us to get the hell out of this nightmare. Go get two bodies from the morgue and I'll set everything up here. I'm sure you know what to do."

He swallows, because he's starting to get what she's thinking of.

Rantarou feels for the cigarette box he's been neglecting for some time and tentatively takes one out.

Putting it to his lips, he gestures to her and leans in. "Well, the least you could do is give me this one."

* * *

Even a few seconds after Kaede wakes up, she still feels like she's drowning.

Honestly, she should've known better than to think she'd have a peaceful dream. But she had no say at all in what happened. It was deceptively tranquil, her standing over the ocean, sand between her toes and the water gently coming up to periodically soak her feet. Nothing was wrong. White and blue mixed beautifully in the sky and the weather was exactly how she'd always wanted it to be when she went to the beach. If only for a moment, she could forget about all the troubles that've been plaguing her.

But it couldn't last. It never lasts.

Like shaky tendrils, the blue sea shot up without warning. They wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, her neck, and began pulling her down. Even as she attempted to resist, the water felt like a thick cable and kept her from being able to move. She screamed out, but the rushing waves drowned her voice. And suddenly she was pulled under, gasping and extending her fingers out at the nonexistent air around her. When liquid started filling her throat, she still could feel the rope-like pressure it was like _fire_ , and she was _choking_ and _dying_ and -

\- well, that of course had to be the moment she woke up.

And here she is now, feeling at her skin to make sure both her windpipe and her lungs are perfectly intact.

Sure, it _physically_ hurt, but what hurt more was the fact that she couldn't do anything to stop it. That's always the worst part.

She hates feeling helpless.

_Hate, hate, hates it._

But nightmares...aren't new, exactly.

She's always had them, even before joining the show. They've been a near permanent fixture in her life, and for good reason, she thinks. It's not as if the life her real self led was ideal. Kind of the opposite, but she doesn't want to think about that. It makes sense that she hasn't been able to go without nightmares in years. Even in her fake memories, despite not dealing with them quite as much, she understood insomnia better than she feels most should. The fake Kaede has _some_ similarities to the real one, at least.

Her hands ache.

It only becomes clear to her why that is when she pulls one from her lips and brings the back of it in front of her face, looking over the red, burning spots. _Ah_. It seems she's gone back to her bad behaviors. Normal people tend to bite at their nails, but she doesn't do that; instead, she obsessively bites at the skin near her nails until they're stripped and raw and too shaky to work with. Parts of her cuticles are missing and she wonders when that happened. She absently sucks on the blood and waits for her head to stop feeling like a ton of bricks. Old habits are definitely hard to break.

_Can't play the piano with hands like that._

As if that matters.

As if that seriously fucking matters.

It feels like she stares blankly at the wall for a half hour, head still heavy, replaying the scenes in her head over and over and over. She doesn't have the energy to get up, but she doesn't want to go back to sleep out of fear of seeing the same thing. That fear ends up winning out as she reluctantly pushes herself into a sitting position.

And now she's sitting, she supposes.

Her hands move to aggressively rub at her eyes.

The only other thing that registers in her mind is that her throat burns. She makes the connection between that and the screaming in her dream, but shakes her head and thinks that she can't have actually done that in real life, and that she's probably just dehydrated.

It's hard to tell what compels her to stand and stagger over to her door, head still a bit fuzzy. Even though she wants to go back to sleep, she knows she won't be able to with how dry her mouth is.

So, she heads downstairs to get some water.

That's all she wants to do.

She doesn't want to talk to anyone else. That's why it makes her headache even worse and she internally groans when she sees a figure in the dark of the kitchen.

"Akamatsu, it is three in the morning," Kirumi's voice accompanies the clinking of a spoon against porcelain. From the smell, it's easy to tell that it's coffee. _Kind of hypocritical._

"Is it? I haven't checked," she states dismissively, then yawns. "In that case, I'm surprised you're awake, too."

Kirumi gives a short shrug in reply and quietly washes her silverware. She doesn't seem as if she's been having much trouble with sleep, so it's hard to anticipate what kind of excuse she'll come up with. "I went to bed far too early on accident, so you could say that this is my morning," she says simply, then looks almost accusingly to Kaede. "It doesn't look like the same can be said for you."

It isn't like there's much to be gained from lying, so Kaede sighs and decides to tell the truth. "I've just...had a hard time sleeping. And I'm thirsty. That's all."

"That's fair. I would ask if you'd like to talk about it," Kirumi begins, eyes piercing inquisitively into Kaede's own. "But you don't quite seem like the type of person who'd accept help from others when it comes to your feelings. Of course, the offer is still open if I'm wrong about that."

That sort of pisses Kaede off, actually.

Who does this girl think she is?

"So, what are you, a therapist? It's not like you actually know me," her standoffish tone falls flat immediately as she curses herself. Without thinking, she starts apologizing. "Sorry. That's rude. I'm sorry."

_She's a terrible person._

It's odd how easy her anger towards others can be directed inward, but Kaede more than acknowledges that she's fairly recently developed a lot of self-hatred. Sometimes it's easy to catch herself before she says or does something awful, but more often than not, she ends up only realizing the gravity and consequences of her actions after she's already performed them.

"You're not wrong. I may have been projecting my own feelings onto you without realizing," and before Kaede can rush to insist that Kirumi hasn't done anything wrong, Kirumi shifting to give her a leveled stare shuts her up. "I _don't_ know you as a person, even though I can assure you that you had quite the impact on everyone during the killing game, including myself. But we didn't exactly get the opportunity to know each other at all, did we? Whether it's the personality you've had all along or the personality you were given, I can't say I know either of them."

Surprisingly, that's far more reassuring than Kaede expected it would be. Shuuichi's the only one of her classmates she's really been sticking by, despite her internal insistence that she shouldn't, but the expectations he's clearly had for who she's supposed to be have put a sort of pressure on her that she's sure isn't at all intentional on his part. Part of her even thinks that it's something she's made up in her own head. But Kirumi is someone who doesn't actually know Kaede and she fully acknowledges the fact that she doesn't. And that's sort of refreshing, in a strange way.

But it doesn't change the facts of the situation, and Kaede tries to keep her head straight. "I don't think you want to know me. I don't even want to know me."

That last part is supposed to come out as a sort of joke, but it sounds a lot more self-deprecating instead. She can't stand the look of sympathy that Kirumi gives her in response, but the words she says next make it even worse.

"Then, you don't like who you were before the killing game?"

"That's not - ugh, that's not it," immediately, Kaede is on the defensive, and she rubs at her head as if she can somehow just will the migraine to _go away_. "I mean, I don't know. Maybe. It's just...the person I was before and the person they made me into are so different. I became someone like that, someone I never wanted to be."

Seeming to give those words serious consideration, Kirumi stares into her cup with a thoughtful frown, her hair falling in front of her face when she looks down. It hits Kaede not for the first time just how startling Kirumi's beauty really is. It's unreal how she manages to be both elegant and adorable. Though Kaede attributes most of it to the maid outfit, she imagines that Kirumi would likely retain both of those aspects if she were dressed in any other attire. _Come on_ , she tells herself with an internal groan, _this isn't the time_.

It's because of those thoughts that it takes her a moment to realize that Kirumi's moved to face her. "Akamatsu, will you sit with me in the living area for a bit? I'll make you something to drink and be in there shortly."

That catches her off-guard, but she doesn't think to deny the request.

"Uh, sure, I guess," she says slowly, moving to exit the room. Before she leaves, she lets out a soft, "Thanks."

In her dazed state, it takes a moment for her to remember where exactly said living area is. It's a small room near the dining hall, consisting primarily of a television and a large couch, as well as some armchairs and various doors and archways leading to other parts of the building. Taking a seat on the couch, Kaede takes one of the throws from behind her and throws it over her shoulders, using it as a small blanket to protect from the insistent cold feeling she's had ever since she woke up.

It only takes a moment for Kirumi to then enter the room.

When Kirumi sits next to her, she hands over a cup of hot tea. It smells minty and soothing and even though it's still steaming, Kaede takes a big drink of it without a care. It burns her mouth but warms her all the same. The maid gives a smile, seeming happy at Kaede's growing comfort, and begins speaking. "Now, back on topic - why exactly didn't you want to be that person?"

And just like that, the tension of their conversation comes flooding back. Kaede gives a grimace and puts the cup down on the small table next to her.

"Well...why _would_ I want to be the person I was in the killing game?" the spite in her question isn't directed at the other girl, but she doesn't bother clarifying that. "For once in my life, I actually wanted to protect other people - and it got me killed! The fear that I've had my entire life came true the very second I gave it a chance to. So, I shouldn't care at all about others. I shouldn't want to help anyone else, I shouldn't want to trust anyone else, I shouldn't even bother thinking about people other than myself."

Kirumi should hate her for that.

She should despise her. She should shun her away.

But she doesn't do that. Instead of looking disgusted or horrified at Kaede's words, she appears almost sad and empathetic, like she really _does_ understand. "I'm actually rather selfish," Kirumi states gently, giving a small smile. Selfish isn't really how Kaede remembers her, but what does she know? What does she _really_ know? As Kirumi continues, she places a gloved hand on Kaede's knee, looking into her eyes. "I have no right to judge you for how you feel, nor dictate your actions or your feelings. I can't tell you whether you should or shouldn't care about other people."

"I _do_ still care, though," Kaede says, her voice breaking as she feels herself start to tear down. Her thoughts are a mess and so are her words, but she doesn't bother trying to filter herself. "That's the worst part. I don't understand why I still care. It makes me sick, I just want to leave all this behind me and I can't. Because some part of me still wants to make sure everyone gets it out of here alright. I have no reason to care, and - and all because of that stupid game, I'm being forced to!"

" _Are_ you being forced to?"

Without even realizing they were closed in the first place, Kaede's eyes snap open again. "H - Huh?"

Kirumi doesn't falter. "You now have the memories of who you were before, but even with that all restored, you care about others. Is caring about others really something that's so out of character for you? Is it really something you're being _forced_ to do?"

At that, Kaede goes back to feeling oversensitive and prickly. Her eyes narrow and that sick feeling starts creeping up her stomach yet again. She's not sure why Kirumi is being so pushy about this point, or what kind of difference it would make regardless, but she's starting to regret opening up at all in the first place. So, why doesn't she just leave? She can get up and leave the room at any point, but she's choosing not to. _Why?_

She sniffs and shrugs half-heartedly. "I don't see why that matters. It doesn't change the fact that I don't want to feel this way."

Even though Kirumi's eyes aren't necessarily judgemental, they're far too observant for Kaede's liking. It's as if she's looking straight into her soul, like Kirumi's viewing her as a sort of puzzle, but one she can fully identify with all the same. It becomes even less clear what her end goal is here when she responds. "Are you scared of the idea that you're better than you allow yourself to believe you are? That you're not as bad of a person as you've convinced yourself you are?"

Like a dam being broken, the tears Kaede's been trying to hold back come spilling out.

Her breathing hitches and she turns her head down, trying to hide her face and her incessant crying. Why won't it stop? Her sobbing is quiet and her insides feel like they're breaking apart as she chokes on the louder sounds threatening to pass through her lips. _Despair_ is the first word that comes to her mind, but even that doesn't fully encompass the degree to which she feels utterly _lost_.

As she moves her head forward, she ends up hitting Kirumi and burying her face in the other girl's shoulder, the severity of her crying only increasing.

It takes a few tries for her to get it out, but she finally says what she's been thinking, yet couldn't find the words for. "Things were so much easier when I just couldn't...feel."

For what seems like ages, Kirumi lets Kaede cry her eyes out.

After enough time, the already near silent whines disappear, and it comes to Kirumi's attention that Kaede's actually fallen asleep. She supposes that it's not entirely unexpected. The girl certainly seemed more than wound up, as well as exhausted, throughout the entire time that they were speaking. Maybe all of this was just what she'd needed to finally relax. Kirumi certainly hopes that she was able to provide some level of comfort to her, at the very least.

It's far too tempting to just lean her head down and kiss Kaede's forehead; and so, that's what Kirumi does.

"You two are awake at this hour?"

She tries not to jump at the voice out of fear of waking up Kaede, but her head suddenly turns to the new voice. When she looks over, she sees a large figure within the room's darkness that unmistakably belongs to Gonta. He looks surprised to see anyone awake at this hour, but he looks well-rested. If she recalls correctly, Gonta was always an early riser like her, so it makes sense. "She had some trouble resting. We were just talking, and she ended up falling asleep."

His face softens and the two of them fix their gazes on Kaede. "I...see," he states slowly. "I can take her back to her room, if you'd like."

For a moment, she considers it. But when Kirumi looks down at Kaede's peaceful face pressed up against the crook of her neck, all of that pretense goes out the window.

"Thank you, but I believe she looks comfortable enough where she is," she responds, giving Gonta a small smile.

Even though Kirumi isn't able to get back to sleep in the position she's in, it doesn't matter to her at all.

* * *

Surprise, surprise - it was Kaito who ultimately suggested that Maki and Shuuichi join him for training one evening.

He'd mentioned it at the dining table during breakfast like it was a casual thing, like it's something they've been doing regularly already, as if Shuuichi _wouldn't_ be thinking about it all day. Both of them agreed because, well, why wouldn't they? He's fully aware that both he and Maki want nothing more than for things to go back to what they've perceived as normal between the three of them, regardless of how impossible it seemed that it would ever really happen.

And...he still needs to talk to Maki, of course.

 _His best friend_ , he thinks on impulse.

But is that even true?

If he were to have identified his best friend before the end of the killing game, it would have hands down been Kaito. But he and Maki and Himiko all survived until the end; they were able to live together and resolved to being each other's only support system available, the only people who would be able to understand each other on any genuine level. He was already beginning to accept the deaths of his other friends. Maki and Himiko were the two that Shuuichi decided would be his reasons for living.

They all made the choice to live on, in the end. Despite everything, despite the world quite literally coming crashing down around them, they made it out alive. Maybe that was intentional, now that he thinks about it.

_Everything was a lie._

_It was all a damn lie._

How much of what they did in the end actually had an effect on the outside world? What's even going _on_ in the outside world? If everything was just a simulation, if no one died at all, if the hardships they faced weren't actually real, then what was the point?

_What was the point? What was the point?_

Shuuichi's head can't stop reeling. Even as he walks down the hallway to the kitchen for some lunch that he's definitely not hungry for, his eyes are locked on his feet and his mind is lost in thought. Now that he's actually thinking about everything that happened, he feels sick. More than that, he feels angry. He was already having a hard enough time believing that his friends' deaths were _real_ and _meant something_ and now there's even more evidence to point to the fact that it just didn't fucking matter.

It'd be easier to die than deal with whatever's waiting for him at home once the year is up, if everything really was just for nothing.

It'd be easier to -

" - sure if I like her that way, let alone if she likes me in general," a familiar voice - _Kaito's_ voice - makes Shuuichi halt his steps and jerk his head toward the stairwell. From where he's standing, he can see two silhouettes and has a feeling he knows who the other person is without even hearing their voice. "And I guess the last part goes for Shuuichi, too. We're gonna be training together later. All three of us. But I don't know how that'll end up going. Like, I'm sure it'll be fine, but...y'know."

Just then, the other person hums in a tone that sounds somehow both playful and serious, and just from that Shuuichi knows he was right in his assumption. "You don't seem all that sure, then."

Of all the people to run into, Shuuichi doesn't expect it to be both Kokichi and Kaito.

What are they doing together? If Kaito's account earlier that morning is anything to go by, then Shuuichi can't imagine why they'd be talking with each other, except maybe for the purpose of fighting. Their encounter the previous night sounded like it went terribly. So, he's not exactly sure what either of them would gain from talking again. Not only that, but they don't even sound like they're arguing about anything.

Is Kaito actually opening up? To _Kokichi_ , no less?

Shuuichi shakes his head, absolutely sure that he's mistaken. It _has_ to be something else.

He takes care not to make too much sound while approaching the two and turns his head around the corner, finally able to fully take in the two.

Both are standing oddly close to each other, Kaito looking tense and closed off. Meanwhile, Kokichi has one hand on his hip and the other resting on one of Kaito's crossed arms in a gesture that looks suspiciously comforting. Shuuichi takes one look at Kokichi's face and automatically feels as if he's intruding because _wow_ , that's the first time he's seen an expression quite that gentle on his face. But it's detached in a way that makes it looks like he's trying not to _appear_ as if he cares despite the fact that he clearly does. Instead of answering any questions Shuuichi had, he's suddenly faced with even more.

He's almost tempted to turn around and leave them, but something about the scene's intimacy roots him to the ground and he can't bring himself to look away.

"Maybe it's just that I'm not - " Kaito goes to speak again, but Kokichi suddenly shifts his eyes to Shuuichi and he flinches hard, ripping his hand away from Kaito like he's just accidentally touched a hot stove. He looks away and his previous expression is wiped, then replaced with a grin that just comes out of _nowhere_.

" _Saihara!_ " even though it's said far too loudly to be anything but intentional, there's no mistaking the pure joy on Kokichi's face as he calls out in a sing-song voice.

Kaito jumps and his head whips over as he instinctively takes a step back from the other boy, shattering their closeness. "O - Oh, Shuuichi. Were you going this way?"

"Ah, I can come back later if - "

"No, no," before Shuuichi can try to escape the situation that he's clearly disrupted, Kaito rushes to dismiss himself. It seems a lot like he'd actually forgotten himself for a moment and is only now realizing that he doesn't want to be here. "It's no big deal. I was kind of...just about to leave, anyway."

It becomes evident that there's really nothing Shuuichi can say to stop him, so he just watches as Kaito passes by him and heads in the direction to the rooms.

But then Kaito stops on his tracks and looks back. His eyes are fixated on Kokichi and it looks as if he's about to say something. But with a quick glance over to Shuuichi, the words get caught in his throat and he ends up staring at Kokichi with an unsure face. It's obvious that he _wants_ to speak, but is stopping himself for whatever reason, and Shuuichi has a sinking feeling in his stomach because he's fairly sure he knows it has something to do with his presence.

Turning, Kokichi jumps a bit when they lock gazes. His frown deepens uncomfortably and he raises an eyebrow, then putting a hand up in an almost mechanical half-wave.

At that, Kaito's mouth snaps shut and his briefly eyes widen before going back to normal. He gives a tiny nod, then moves to look forward again and steels his expression.

And without another word, Shuuichi is left alone with one of the many people he's been trying to avoid this entire time.

He resolves to confront the issue head-on, rather than try to run away from the situation. "What was that about?"

"What was _what_ about? All that?" as expected, Kokichi plays dumb, turning his head away with a casual expression like he's totally uninterested. Shuuichi would fully believe it if not for what he'd just witnessed. Instead, he's just confused and conflicted about what to feel or think. "Momota was just complaining about his girlfriend, or something. I dunno. I wasn't really paying attention."

 _Like hell you weren't,_ is what Shuuichi wants to say, but he holds his tongue because he knows being accusatory won't get him anywhere.

It's not hard to see that there's a lot that's being purposefully kept from Shuuichi and he supposes that it's his responsibility as a detective - if he can still even call himself that - to find out what it is and what it means. He puts a finger to his lips in thought and tries to hang his inquiries in the air. "I don't really...get what you two were doing, just now. Now that I think about it, you and Momota have been acting really weird ever since we all woke up. Just what kind of relationship do you guys have?"

Kokichi blinks, smile unwavering, though his expression seems otherwise blank. "Yeah," he says vaguely, and Shuuichi's actually a little dumbfounded. He's never seen Kokichi so obviously try to avoid a subject. But Kokichi sees his expression and cackles loudly. "Aw, what, are you jealous now?"

The absurdity of the question makes Shuuichi frown hard. But instead of pushing the conversation, his mind catches up to what his eyes have already been seeing and he accidentally ends up changing the subject. "Oh, you're...your clothes are..."

He trails off, looking down at what Kokichi is wearing. Even though he didn't mean to let the conversation shift like that, it's still something that catches his attention. Unlike the last time Shuuichi had seen him, the checkered neckerchief and mismatched buttons are nowhere to be seen. His rather plain-looking dark jacket seems almost unfitting for him, but it's not completely unfamiliar. Shuuichi briefly remembers seeing him in this same outfit just before the killing game had started, when they all first assembled together.

"This is my school uniform," Kokichi answers the unasked question. "My other clothes weren't really mine. I mean, yours aren't, either, right? Our dear old _Ringleader_ designed those clothes for our characters to play. Why be in costume off the camera, too?"

He can see the underlying question there. _Why is Shuuichi still wearing the clothes Tsumugi designed for them?_ But that's not something he has the answer to. The most accurate reasoning he can come up with is the fact that it just isn't something he gave much thought to, outside of immediately ditching the hat the very moment he realized it was still on his head when he first woke up. But even that was primarily because he'd just gotten so used to not having it on that it felt strange to be wearing.

There's a vague memory that he can't see clearly, one that tells him he _liked_ the clothes Tsumugi made for him when he'd first seen them, but he pushes that to the back of his mind.

Choosing to try and pick up where he'd wrongly left off, Shuuichi takes a step forward. "A - Anyways," he starts, trying to sound more assertive than he actually feels. "I still don't understand what's going on between you and Momota. He didn't agree to your plan, right? After what happened between you two - "

"Oh, you heard about that, huh?" Kokichi interrupts, but he doesn't seem at all surprised. It seems almost as if he'd expected that Kaito would've told him about it. "And you think I'm crazy, right? That's what Momota said. I'm guessing you feel the same way."

 _Crazy_. Shuuichi isn't a fan of that word at all.

He's also not a fan of the fact that Kaito's the one who evidently said that.

"That's not...exactly it," even though he's been thinking about what to say when he finally did confront Kokichi, it gets to be difficult figuring out how to word his thoughts. "In a way, I sort of like the idea."

Not the best start.

It seems to genuinely catch Kokichi off guard. He pauses for a moment, his face going blank, before it's replaced with a look of exaggerated curiosity. "Huh? Wow, Saihara. Are you actually evil, too?"

"That's...not what I'm saying. It's just that in theory, I like the idea," but Shuuichi groans inwardly and tries to recollect his thoughts. He's not sure how to make himself _not_ look awful by partially agreeing with what Kokichi thinks, but he's also afraid that over-explaining himself might just make things worse. He still decides to go with the latter. "I mean, not completely, but - ah, just let me explain. You're not wrong, exactly, and I get where you're coming from. You've already figured out what this place is, right?"

He's hoping that instead pushing the questions on Kokichi will get his point across better, but it's not something that goes unnoticed.

There appears that faux disinterest. Kokichi looks away and cocks his head to the side. "What this place is? It's just a normal resort. There's nothing really special about it."

"That's right," Shuuichi nods. " _That's_ the point. It's a normal resort. This place wasn't built for us, or anything. Not in the same way the school was built for us. And that makes sense. They're probably renting this place out for the year, and that's why they said what they did. Remember?"

And just like that, Kokichi grins wildly.

It's obvious that the deductions are coming to light, and Shuuichi has his detective skills to thank. A true detective. Well, wouldn't he be one, by now? Even though it's not something his entire being is proud of, that identity is doing him wonders here, as well as letting him figure out where this conversation is inevitably going to lead. One of the more frustrating aspects of Kokichi is his unpredictability, but part of Shuuichi is telling him how much _fun_ it is to work around that.

_Fun?_

Even while Shuuichi's mind grinds to a halt, Kokichi speaks through that blankness. "Oh, about keeping this place clean? That sure was a dead giveaway. So, you understand, _right?_ "

Yeah. Shuuichi understands. But he doesn't like the idea of playing so neatly into Kokichi's hand, so he narrows his eyes and works around the question. "What I understand here is that you think destroying this resort is something both Shirogane and Amami don't want, and that they'll suffer if it happens."

Despite those efforts, it doesn't seem to deter Kokichi at all, who just laughs yet again, a tone that rings in Shuuichi's ears in his damn dreams - _nightmares_ \- in his nightmares. "You got it! See, I figured _you_ would understand. I never had any faith that Momota would, but I had a feeling you'd be smart enough to see where I'm coming from. I knew it wouldn't take long for you to figure out the true nature of this resort," the praise coming from Kokichi sounds so sarcastic that it seems much like an insult instead. "So, how about it? Do _you_ wanna work with me to wreck this place?"

Within just a few seconds, a series of thoughts rush through Shuuichi's mind as his eyes go dark with a bile excitement.

_I could just say yes right now._

_Oh, my God, I want to say yes right now._

_It would be a very, very bad idea to say yes right now._

"Uh, I'm not going to leave it off the table entirely," he starts, the more logical part of his brain winning out. More or less. Seriously, he should be applauded for remaining so level-headed. "But without getting a better feel for our situation, I don't think making rash decisions would result in a good outcome. _Maybe_ Shirogane and Amami would take a hit if something disastrous happened here, but that _maybe_ is the most important part here. We can't know for sure. We need to know more about what this place really is and whether that theory is right or not _before_ we go taking any risks."

"Oh, so you figured it out?"

Shuuichi's thought process is brought to a sudden stop.

He frowns and his shoulders go tense. "Wh - What?"

The grin on Kokichi's face makes it obvious that everything Shuuichi's said up to this point has been calculated or, at the very least, predicted, and his stomach sinks to the ground. "You're completely right! My theory's just a theory, after all. Destroying this place _is_ my end goal, though," Shuuichi has to wonder if this was all rehearsed or something, and Kokichi keeps talking at a rate that makes Shuuichi's head spin. "I just need to find something that can back me up. I'm pretty sure I'm right about everything, but a detective like you needs better evidence, right? Do you know what that means?"

"What...that means?" Shuuichi hesitantly asks. A big part of him wants to escape this conversation, but he feels almost trapped.

And just as he's putting together what the other teen is getting at, the next words start numbing his brain.

"It means that I want you to investigate this place with me!" Kokichi exclaims loudly. "I figured what I said to Momota would get to you eventually and that you'd wanna talk to me about it, so think of it like...me using him to get to you."

Thinking of it like that doesn't paint Kokichi in a very favorable light, but Shuuichi supposes that it's probably not important whether he's viewed negatively or positively. It's never mattered before, after all.

Investigate with him?

He has to wonder just how much of this Kokichi has actually planned out. Was he trying to get Shuuichi to talk to him this entire time? Just how little attention has he been paying to his surroundings, or to the people around him? It's not like he's been able to get his thoughts in order after such a short amount of time - in fact, he's only just recently been _feeling_ anything regarding the events that've taken place. He leans against the walls of the stairwell and looks up, lips pursed together tightly.

A hand moves up to tub at one of his temples and he closes his eyes. What are his options? It's obvious that Kokichi wants to use him, to use his skills as a detective to find out more about this place, but is that really it? It seems Kokichi is smart enough to figure things out on his own, so why ask for help in the first place? There has to be some ulterior motive here, but Shuuichi's hard-pressed to find out what it is.

And even considering all of that, he wonders if the idea that there _is_ something else going on here is enough to make him decline.

He knows that he doesn't want to leave Kokichi to his own devices, especially if he's planning something nefarious, but Shuuichi's not quite sure how much danger he'd be putting himself in if he ended up going along with whatever the guy wants.

What's the right answer here?

"I'll have to, ah," he finally opens his eyes and sighs weakly. "I'll have to think about it."

That doesn't seem to make Kokichi very happy, if the short twitch in his expression is anything to go by.

Purple eyes narrow accusingly and Kokichi's tone goes flat. "Why? You gotta ask your _girlfriend_ for permission, or something?"

Alarms go off in Shuuichi's head and he rushes to deny it. "Akamatsu isn't my - "

"I already know, so you don't have to explain it to me. You've been hyperfocused on Akamatsu because it's easier and you don't want to face who you are," Kokichi interrupts, the feeling from his face being completely wiped away. There's nothing that indicates what he's actually thinking in the simple way that he speaks. It's clinical, like he's a doctor giving an objective account on a patient. It's somehow more impossible to tell what he's thinking when he's _not_ trying to put on a fake emotion than when he is. "You're just using her to ignore your own problems."

Well, _that's_ a low blow. It can't be right, either. It definitely doesn't _feel_ like Shuuichi's been using Kaede in any way, just trying to get to know someone he's been wanting to see and speak to for so long. So what if she's been the person he's focused most of his energy on? What's wrong about that? It's not like they've had a lot of opportunity to talk to others yet, and it's not like Shuuichi hasn't _thought_ about talking to anyone else.

He shakes his head in immediate defiance. "I'm just..." he trails off. _Just trying to make up for lost time_ , is what he wants to say, but it sounds too much like a poor excuse.

"You really want more evidence?" Kokichi puts his hands behind his head and goes back to smiling, an expression that's just as threatening as the blank one before. "I mean, haven't you been ignoring Akamatsu's problems, too?"

Ignoring Kaede's problems?

At first, it makes Shuuichi mad, because he wants to say no.

He wants to deny the fact that he's been pushing his own perception of Kaede onto her, that he's been seeing what he wants to see and taking from her accounts what he wants to hear. It's too much of a harsh observation to fully agree that he's somehow taking advantage of Kaede, but he thinks he can admit to at least unintentionally pushing aside the issues that've been clearly plaguing her. She even said that she wanted them to stay away from each other at first, after all.

_Is Kokichi right?_

The thought of that hurts.

"It's fine, though. I get it," Kokichi then says indignantly, not even waiting for a response, a sharp bite clear in his words as he refuses to meet Shuuichi's eyes. "You can keep pretending around me and I'll keep playing along and pretending, too. Because I know that you're a fake, just like me. That's why I already know you're going to investigate this place with me. This whole hesitation act is exactly that - an act - and I'm _sure_ you'll live up to my expectations and put those detective skills of yours to good use."

After Kokichi finishes systematically tearing Shuuichi down, his expression softens. It seems at first to be a look of sadness, which Shuuichi could easily write off as fake, but another glance tells a wildly different story. It's an expression that he doesn't remember ever seeing on Kokichi's face before.

Pity.

For a moment, it's like a switch goes off in his head.

Shuuichi's mouth starts salivating at that without him even realizing as his knees go weak. _Ah_ , someone who can see him to his very core. There's an undeniable urge to continue the conversation so he can keep feeling this sort of incriminating transparency. He wants to feel cut open and exposed _forever_.

Wait - no, he doesn't.

What's _that_ all about? When it comes down to it, Kokichi is basically insulting him. The words he's saying aren't even really true. There's nothing enjoyable about that, even in the slightest, and it wouldn't make any sense for Shuuichi to feel anything toward Kokichi in this moment other than irritation or confusion. "You're judging me because I've been talking to Akamatsu a lot, right?" Shuuichi's voice becomes much more confident as he collects himself. If they're playing the blame game, then he's not about to concede. "But that's a little hypocritical of you. Haven't you only talked to Momota before this?"

As expected, Kokichi brushes off his words with the raise of an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Because he won't leave me alone."

"But you haven't really been pushing him away, right?"

Kokichi pauses and he blinks. _Gotcha_.

But it's not long before he gives one of his creepy, wide-mouthed smiles and giggles like a giddy kid. It's a short-lived laugh and the expression Kokichi turns his way seems very hostile and disingenuous. "You know, Saihara? I'm not sure what you're implying here, but I _am_ pretty sure I don't like it."

The look on his face makes it clear that he actually does understand what's being implied.

It's not like Kokichi to get genuinely upset or angry, so Shuuichi imagines that it has to be an act to hide something else. Of course, it's not the _first_ time something similar has happened. Maybe the defensiveness is partially real and just being played up so Shuuichi will feel intimidated and unwilling to continue the line of questioning. If that's the plan, Kokichi should know better by now. But the problem lies in the fact that Shuuichi doesn't actually _know_ what he's try to get at here, just that he was looking for a reaction and - amazingly enough - got one.

Shuuichi mostly wanted to get the pressure off of him and put some on Kokichi for a change, but he's not sure he's in much of a mood to have a volatile conversation right now. Even though he's now in the driver's seat of the conversation, he doesn't feel at all in control of the vehicle.

It doesn't seem as though he needs to worry too much about it, though, because a hand on his shoulder pulls him out of the confrontational situation.

Just behind him, Maki _radiates_ animosity.

It's shocking how comforting something like hatred coming from Maki can be when it's directed at another person, and specifically at Kokichi. She seems almost protective as her grip tightens and she keeps her eyes fixated on the shorter boy, though now Shuuichi is much more worried about confrontation now than he was before due to how brash her actions might end up being. "I couldn't help but overhear two idiots arguing, so I decided to check it out," she states flatly, though Shuuichi knows her well enough by now to be able to tell that it's at least somewhat a joke.

"Ah, good, good!" Kokichi claps his hands together and responds to her glare with a challenging look. "If we're talking about Kaito, I guess the obsessive killer over here would be the expert!"

"Oh, you're actually talking to me, now?" and Shuuichi instinctively turns over to her in confusion because she replies not as if she's talking to Kokichi, someone she hates with a passion, but instead as if she's scolding a petulant child.

It has a rather unexpected affect on Kokichi. For some reason, her words actually make him slip up, and he crosses his arms. "Y - Yeah, well, I could ask the same of you."

The same confusion that Shuuichi had felt in the hall just a few nights prior floods back. Come to think of it, both he and Maki have been acting a bit strange around each other. Shuuichi's made a mental note of it before, but past that, he hadn't given it much thought and more or less brushed it off as Maki having a shaky opinion on Kokichi as a whole. If that were the case, Shuuichi could more than understand and empathize, but the more he sees the two interact the less likely that becomes.

Even though it seems she has Kokichi on the ropes, she doesn't take advantage of that in any way. Instead, she slips her hand down to grasp at Shuuichi's wrist. "We don't have time to be worrying about this guy right now," she starts, gesturing with a jerk of her head to the stairs. "Let's get something to eat so we won't be hungry during training later."

"Training?" _Right, training_. Shuuichi had completely forgotten about that.

At that, she gives a small smile. "You didn't forget, right? That guy would be upset if he thought you did, so let's just keep that between us."

Shuuichi can't deny that he's more than glad to be given a way out of the conversation. He'd kiss Maki right now if he didn't know that she'd absolutely murder him on the spot, or at the _very_ least threaten to. He doesn't even really want to look back at Kokichi, but when he sees Maki do so, he follows her gaze and sees his empty stare burning into the both of them. His lips are pressed together into a thin line and there's nothing to analyze, which might just be the point. It's enough to make Shuuichi shift his eyes away in discomfort.

He lets Maki pull him up toward the hall above and goes back to focusing on his feet. There's an odd part in him that wants to go back to talking to Kokichi, but he decides that it most likely comes from how little information Shuuichi actually has about the situation. And he's not exactly sure that talking to Kokichi would garner him anything but more questions and concerns. _So, what's this feeling?_

It's hard to imagine that Shuuichi's actually feeling worse than he did before, but it's the truth of the situation. He wants to forego training entirely and slip back to his room and it's frustratingly tempting to do just that.

Maki, like she's done before, makes him push forward.

He's not motivated, nor does it give him hope. It doesn't even make him feel better. He just goes because he decides that he has no other choice.

* * *

There is her - Angie, that is - and the other two - Tenko and Himiko, that is.

The other two being a bit away from her, a way aways, where they're not _in_ the way. It's a courtesy, as one calls it, since they'll be disrupting her work if either one suddenly decides to check out that plant in the middle of the room or the desk at the far end, or anything else, really. It's sort of taking up the majority of the floor. Angie doesn't trust them to not mess it all up, even by accident. Maybe that's rude. It's probably rude not to trust people who're supposed to be your friends.

Well, it's not like she _distrusts_ them, exactly. And isn't it okay to trust people in some areas and not in others? Those are kind of conflicting statements, but neither are untrue.

Tenko and Himiko both know better than to mess up her hard work, the giant shapes adorning the floor made out of the exact thing they're supposed to represent.

She's still busy trickling rosemary and dandelion petals across the lobby. The former she got from the kitchen, while the latter she'd grabbed from the indoor garden.

But Angie's gotten distracted and she can still see them in the reflection of the window she's staring through, just standing there across the room. Their expressions are apprehensive, like they're not sure if she's cutting it short or if she's just taking a break, or how long that break will last if it's the latter. But it's really neither of those things. Well, in the loosest sense of the word, it might be construed as a break, but it's more that her attention has been directed elsewhere for the time being.

_Magnificent rain._

Angie's face is up close to the window. She can see her breath on the cold glass and feel it with the tip of her nose.

"U - Um, I think I'm going to head back to my room," Himiko stutters out, looking back and forth between Angie and the exit. "You two can join me when you're done here, if you want."

Even someone like Angie, who doesn't always immediately get things - which is fine by her - can understand that Himiko's not even really talking to Tenko when she says that. She's probably expecting Tenko to just follow her, and Angie's expecting that, too. But Tenko doesn't move an inch, not even when the mage carefully walks over to the doorway. She instead gives Himiko a gentle smile and nods, waving at her.

It's clearly unexpected because Himiko's eyes widen for a moment before she returns the wave and leaves, also directing a simple _bye_ in the direction of Angie.

For Angie, being in a room alone with Tenko is a lot like being trapped in a cage with a wild animal you've never seen before. You don't know what it can do, what its diet is, or even what class of creature it belongs to. You just know that it _might_ be dangerous, that it _might_ see you as a threat and try to devour you alive, but there's nothing to confirm or dispute that sort of doubt until it attacks and by then, it might be too late. And if you make a move first, you're much more likely to make your own suspicions come true. So Angie deals with Tenko by not dealing with her at all.

That was at least true in the killing game.

Now, she's not so sure if that tactic still applies.

Outright ignoring Tenko doesn't seem to be an option anymore. Or, if it is, doing so may just put Angie at more of a disadvantage than before. _The wild animal has taken a liking to her._ Or something along those lines.

What's a way to test the waters? A conversation? That's how normal people get to understanding each other better, anyway. And Angie is at least somewhat interested in understanding Tenko, so she supposes that works. But she's never been that great at conversation starters. Questions are good. She remembers reading somewhere that asking questions is a great way to _break the ice_ , in a way.

"Are you...happy?"

It's a question she's asking Tenko, _not_ the rain outside. Maybe that's obvious. But, also, maybe it's not obvious.

The point was to just get them to finally talk to each other, but Tenko's reflection jumps a bit and narrows her eyes, looking around as if to ask - _are you talking to me?_ \- but of course Angie's talking to her. Who else would Angie be talking to? If she's right, there's no one else in the lobby with them. Maybe the question was just a bad start. Tenko can talk about anything else, if that's easier.

But just as Angie's about to open her mouth and say just that, Tenko uncrosses her arms and responds. "Um, are you asking if I'm just happy in general? Or, right now?"

She didn't really think of that. But now that it's really the topic of their conversation, Angie can't help but wonder.

"Are you happy here?" she asks, this time trying to be a little more specific.

But that effort doesn't seem to be of any use, because Tenko looks just as confused now as she did before. Angie tries to put herself at the helm of the question instead to see if it's really that difficult to answer, but comes up fairly easily with a self-directed response. Has there ever really been a time in which Angie could say she was decidedly unhappy? She's sure it must've happened before, but she doesn't remember the last time her own feelings have ever really been taken into account.

Is she happy here, on this resort? Results are still pending.

Though a few moments have passed already, Tenko seems to be having just as much trouble contemplating the question as before. "Um, that's still not - "

"Now, this is rather odd to walk in on."

Both Tenko and Angie whip their heads to the source of the comment. Even though it's just Korekiyo, Tenko seems less than pleased to see him. But she was never much of a fan of men to begin with, so it's easy to chalk it up to just that. Angie, for one, is glad that another person is in the room with them now. She does love her privacy, but if she were to be perfectly honest, it's much worse being alone with one other person than it is being in a large group of other people.

Why was Angie staring out the window, again?

Ah, right.

Korekiyo is staring in something that looks close to amazement at the floor of the lobby. A giant flower-shape, made from the flower petals and rosemary. It's not the type of art that Angie's used to working with, but the idea of it was so inspiring that she just _had_ to do it.

She shifts her body to face him with a radiant smile.

"Do you like it?" she chirps happily. "It's for protection! Well, the rosemary is."

Not seeming to understand, Korekiyo narrows his eyes and rests his chin in his hand. "Protection? And what does rosemary have to do with your God, or with protection?"

_God?_

That perpetual smile feels more forced than ever. _But that's fine_.

"It was a suggestion from Himiko! The rosemary was. Her magic knowledge says rosemary is supposed to be protective. This is protection! Thank Angie for it, will you?"

Friends listen to each other and friends thank each other. Friends also forgive each other, and friends aren't supposed to resent each other for useless reasons. If Angie is playing the role of a friend, she needs to be accurate in what friends do.

Is Korekiyo a friend?

Korekiyo might be a friend.

_Korekiyo's probably not a friend._

But probably can mean a lot of things. Probably is, by definition, not definite. A lot of Angie's art works with _probably_. A lot of what they've been dealing with lately has worked with _probably_. And if Korekiyo can probably not be a friend, that means the opposite is just as possible. It's not like Angie has a lot of experience with friends, anyway. She imagines that everyone has to start somewhere.

Tenko doesn't seem to want to start here.

"I'm..." she starts, looking wearily at Korekiyo. "I'm, ah, going to leave."

"Aw, but this looks like a fun group to be in," a new voice responds to her, just at the doorway. All three of them turn their heads.

_Kokichi?_

Oh, right, Kokichi. There are too many people here to keep track of, but Angie thinks that Kokichi is one of the classmates who stood out a lot. On purpose, it seemed. Like a boy looking for attention. That sort of personality is one that has Angie's respect, mostly because she can understand it the best, though it doesn't feel from others' reactions to Kokichi that they feel the same way as her.

That even applies to Tenko, who throws her hands up in frustration and storms out, just past the two new arrivals. "Jeeze! Now I'm _definitely_ leaving!"

Angie would have preferred there be three of them instead of two, but she hopes they can keep each other entertained while she goes back to finishing the piece.

But it doesn't take long for Kokichi to start pestering her, though she can't say she's surprised that he's the one who does. She's not sure whether the look on his face is one of interest or confusion, or possibly a combination of the two. "Hey, what's that yellow stuff? Flowers, aren't they? I guess _that's_ why there's so much pollen in here," his tone makes him sound vaguely upset.

It looks from his reaction to it and the slight redness on his nose that he may be allergic to pollen, which Angie didn't really take into account before.

"Yeah! Dandelions!" she almost drops the pile in her hands. That wouldn't be good. "Angie sort of looks like a dandelion, too. That's why."

They're yellow. Angie is dressed in yellow, too. Yellow is the color that feels like happiness, the color of the sun. Both Angie and dandelions are yellow. Plus, she's spreading both dandelions and rosemary around, and it's all for the sake of protection. So, when she traces a giant dandelion in the heart of the island with the bright petals, it's like Angie is drawing herself protecting them. It makes sense to her. She can make that connection in her head easily, but it's hard to vocalize. And by the time she's explained it to herself in her head, the thought is long gone and she's just left with a feeling that it makes sense without knowing fully why, and that's fine for _her_. It's just never fine for anyone else, ever.

So, she doesn't really bother listening when Kokichi starts to object, starts to complain about how what she's saying is irrelevant. He just doesn't get it and can't get it.

That's fine. Why can't he see that it's fine?

"If I'm being honest," Korekiyo cuts into their conversation, "I'm glad to have run into you."

Surprisingly, the one he's directing that sentiment at is Kokichi, who looks over and raises an eyebrow. "Glad, huh?"

Even though Angie's only observing the exchange, she can almost feel the underlying nervousness in Korekiyo's voice as he nods hesitantly. "Yes. You see, I was simply wondering if you would be open to eating dinner together later. You haven't been present during our group meals and I'd very much like to speak with you."

"Wow! No," Kokichi replies loudly. Already, it looks like he's about to bolt out. "Actually, I'm looking for Iruma. But since she's not here, I'll leave the peanut gallery alone."

Immediate surprise flashes on Korekiyo's face as he reaches out to stop Kokichi, but the smaller teen is already rushing out of the lobby before Korekiyo can properly react.

"Rejection is sad," Angie makes note of. "But, there's no need to worry! If you wish to speak with Kokichi, you have time!"

Why's she reassuring him?

Oh, well.

It's a waste to think about things that don't make sense.

But she's not so sure that her words get through to him, because he still seems rather distraught. Something about his demeanor is more than a little bit tense, like he's trying to figure out a math problem, or like he's trying to make a particularly difficult decision. And that's when her own feelings start making sense, because of _course_ she'd want to help someone in need. Isn't that a natural thing for people to want to do?

Lately, Angie's been really heavily focused on figuring out what is and isn't normal, how she should and shouldn't be acting and reacting to situations and to people. So, when Korekiyo puts a hand over his clothed mouth, she feels the urge to frown at his lost words. "I'm not sure if I do."

He doesn't have time? She's not sure what he means by that, so she carefully steps over the lines she's made and approaches him. "Does it have to do with our lives in the killing game?" she asks. "You can talk to Angie about that, too!"

Her sudden close proximity catches him off-guard. It's hard to figure him out normally, but the fact that he's clearly uncomfortable with her is both sad and puzzling.

"While I... _appreciate_ the offer," he begins slowly. "It has nothing to do with that. Not exactly, that is. If it's _you_ who wants to talk about it, however, I have no issues with listening."

If it's her who wants to talk about it? _Does_ Angie want to talk about the killing game?

She hums and shifts her head from side to side. "Angie thought that Korekiyo would have more to say about it, since he outlived her."

That makes him look even _more_ panicked. Angie's just really not having a lot of luck today in saying the right things. No matter how she tries to strategic her conversations, every tactic she uses ends up backfiring on her. And he's still looking at her like he knows something she doesn't which, quite fairly, could be true. Considering the fact that he could very well have lived much longer than her, he had every opportunity to learn the secrets hidden within the killing game that she tried desperately to turn a blind eye to.

But willful ignorance doesn't have to always be a bad thing. Even now, she's not interested in understanding what he clearly does. She knows enough to know that she doesn't want to know.

"I'll take you up on it, then. Though, I'd like you to answer a question of mine, before I do," he collects himself and changes his objective, seeming to analyze her. "Why did you audition for the killing game in the first place? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Angie laughs because it's something that doesn't need explaining.

He doesn't laugh with her, though. He's looking for an actual answer.

It feels like she's being betrayed by her brain because she really can't think of how to respond. Her body freezes up, though she hopes he doesn't notice with how tense she's been this whole time. Why did that have to be his first question - actually, why does he have to ask that question at all? But then, why does it bother her so much? Maybe it's just that it's something she doesn't want to think about. "Angie wanted to leave," she responds simply, because it's technically not a lie.

"Leave? What do you mean by that?" the way he asks makes it feel like he's pushing the subject, though she knows in the back of her mind that he's just curious.

Her jaw loosens just a bit. Because she's been grinding her teeth that whole time. When did she start that?

There's an itch to dig those same teeth into something. She's not hungry, just bitey. Maybe that's the answer for why she joined the killing game. She might've just felt bitey at the time. Maybe explaining that will make Korekiyo stop questioning her about it. She really, really hopes he stops questioning her about it.

She points at him and goes back to the real subject of their conversation, because he's really messed up the flow of it. "Hey, you seem to be avoiding the question of what you wished to tell Kokichi. Is it okay to avoid the question? Really okay?"

 _What'll it be? What'll it be?_ If Korekiyo continues keeping the truth from her, Angie decides she's just going to stop caring and leave.

Why does she care in the first place?

But before she can give that question much thought, Korekiyo conceeds and gives a heavy sigh. "It's...if you must know, I simply worry about him attempting to meet with Iruma," he shifts his eyes over to the hall that Kokichi previously scurried down, looking distant. "Because it is _her_ who concerns me the most. I have reason to believe that Iruma is hiding something from us all."

It's not like Angie's given Miu much thought. The inventor never quite caught her eye, mostly because she never seemed very interested in knowing Angie either. Angie does remember briefly thinking to herself that she and Miu have quite a bit in common when it comes to their personalities, but nothing's ever come of that, since they tend to accidentally avoid each other. But, hiding something? It feels much more likely that Miu is just trying to keep to herself, but Korekiyo looks convinced that something nefarious is going on.

Angie looks down at the combination of plants still in her arms and stuck to her clothing, absently responding. "Hiding something?"

This sparks an almost paranoid ramble from Korekiyo, who keeps his eyes averted. "She's rather impossible to find more often than not. Her actions have been questionable at best, as well," he begins, trying to lay out his reasoning. "Every time I try to ask about where she's always off to, she avoids the topic and refuses to give an answer. And it's not only me that she refuses to speak with. Whatever it is that she's doing, I can't seem to find a good reason for why she would keep it from everyone."

The longer he talks, the more convinced Angie becomes that something's probably wrong. But what difference does it make to be worrying about it? "Then, have you tried following her around?" she asks, getting straight to the point.

"Of course not," he looks at her as if it's a ridiculous question. "I've yet to investigate it myself because of how...unpredictable that girl is. I refuse to put myself in a dangerous situation."

She's not sure why she feels so offended by that.

"Ah, but," she points to him again. "You are ready to put Kokichi in a dangerous situation, instead?"

Surprised at the accusation, Korekiyo gives her a put-off glare. "What are you - "

"That is why you wanted to tell him about it. Because he would take action if he is made aware that Miu is keeping a secret from the rest of us?" she interrupts, but the tone of her words isn't at all consistent. "Hmm, you know he would take action if he is made aware that Miu is keeping a secret from the rest of us. Right? Right?"

There's no reason to be so confrontational about this. Angie, head cocked to the side, wonders if she's even interested in having this conversation anymore. Or if she was interested in the first place.

But for some reason, the way he searches frantically and angrily for an answer feels almost satisfying to her. And then she feels awful for feeling that way because that's not how friends are supposed to treat each other, and she's already established in her head that Korekiyo is a potential friend. That being said, isn't it terrible to be putting someone else in a position to get hurt when _you're_ the one who's worried about something? Angie doesn't think she's wrong for pointing that out.

Finally, Korekiyo responds, though she almost wishes he doesn't. "I would rather...someone much more capable take care of her," the way he says it makes it clear that he's not lying, because she can see how hard it is for him to get it out. He closes his eyes and speaks slowly, like he's straining himself by admitting it, and he lets out an exasperated breath afterward. "That's all."

Well, now she just feels worse.

Angie turns herself around, skipping over to the other side of the lobby, the soft steps echoing and bouncing off the walls and the glass windows. She hadn't even realized that it stopped raining while they were speaking.

"In that case," she looks at him and yells from across the room, waving at him with one hand. "You should find Kokichi! And you should both look for Iruma. You can do it together! If you don't think you can do it on your own, wouldn't it be better to ask for help instead?"

He looks surprised at her words, like he hadn't thought of that.

It's nice to see that the enmity he'd been directing toward her is more or less nonexistent now, but he still seems skeptical of her words. "Have the both of us approach her?" he considers, talking more to himself than to her. "That may not be a bad idea."

Of course it isn't a bad idea, she thinks. Angie came up with it, after all. Sure, Angie might have had bad ideas before, but they've rarely been her fault. Not to mention the fact that she's much more frequently had good ideas than bad. But he seems really taken aback by this phenomenon, sauntering out of the lobby and looking very much like he's going to take her words seriously.

And finally, she's alone.

Her eyes drift back to the unfinished work on the floor, then to the petals and herbs she's been holding.

She continues out of obligation, not because she actually wants to. Something about what it's supposed to symbolize has been tainted. A large spatter of black has been thrown onto her vibrant sun painting, a canvas that can't be cleaned even if she tries. She can clean it all up, but the image of it will never truly leave. But, then, what if it was something that was wrong with the original picture? Maybe instead, she's only now noticing a mistake that's been there the entire time.

Because the sun _isn't_ yellow. It's the color a child draws in crayon to represent the sun, it's how Angie always depicts the sun. But that's not really the sun's color. Yellow's an artificial sun. It's _fake_ happiness.

Does Angie even need her happiness to feel real?

She's still searching for that answer.

* * *

The tense atmosphere almost makes Kaito regret asking Maki and Shuuichi to train with him, but he guesses that it's a bit late for that.

He doesn't remember the last time he was actually able to exercise, since his memories are so jumbled. Even though he could push Shuuichi and influence Maki to do whatever routine he came up with, nothing he proposed ended up being feasible for him to complete alongside them, no matter how little strenuous activity was involved. Fifty push-ups? Twenty sit-ups? Those are things he did for _warmups_ in his real high school life, but in his fake memories, nothing would put him in worse shape than straining himself like that.

That's why he puts extra effort into doing all of the work with them this time around, though considering the fact that he's out of practice, he doesn't get to finish the last lap he has them all do around the edges of the resort. It helps that Shuuichi stops to take a break along with him, looking even more tired out.

Since he's in great physical shape, Kaito thinks it's kind of ridiculous to be feeling as shitty as he does.

But as he sits in the dining room with Shuuichi and chugs more water than is really necessary just for an excuse to keep himself occupied with something and as the two wait for Maki to join them, he can't shake the anxiety that's been plaguing him this entire time.

What makes all of that worse is the fact that Shuuichi looks even more anxious than him.

"Hey, man," Kaito finally asks, unable to help himself. "What's going on with you? Is something wrong?"

Shuuichi's shoulders jump a bit and he jerks his head up, meeting Kaito's eyes for the first time in what's felt like an entire half hour. It's no secret that Shuuichi has a hard enough time hiding things from other people, let alone from Kaito himself, so he makes uncertain eye contact and speaks. "I've just been thinking about earlier. I didn't mean to - well, barge in on your conversation with Ouma like that."

_Of all things._

He was expecting something about Kaede or the killing game, anything else. But Kaito's been actively trying not to think about what happened earlier that day - in fact, it was one of the many reasons he decided not to cancel on the two, since it gave him a good reason to distract himself. But thinking about Kokichi again makes him want to lie down on the floor and never get back up. Y'know, in theory.

But Shuuichi's looking at him like a wounded puppy, so Kaito doesn't have time to be worrying about that.

"No, it's - it's fine, really," he rushes to reassure him, but ends up being a bit too specific in his explanation. "See, I was just going to apologize to him for reacting the way I did, but I never got the chance to."

He mentally curses himself for being too specific, knowing it'll only make things worse.

And he's not even wrong, because he sees Shuuichi's eyes widen and then shift to the table in guilt. "You mean...for what happened last night, right? I'm even more sorry for interrupting, then."

"Nah, not your fault. If anything, it's his," he says casually. Maybe Kaito should feel bad for pushing all the blame on Kokichi, but it's a lot easier to do that for the sake of making it clear that it's at least not Shuuichi's fault. "I'm not even sure if I would've gotten the chance to. We got pretty off-topic. He's pretty talented at making it so he's not the subject of the conversation."

It's sort of embarassing to remember the conversation he had with Kokichi earlier. Kaito doesn't much like acknowledging his faults, but not thinking before he speaks sometimes is definitely one of them. It wasn't smart of him to open himself up like that, going on about his insecurities that his relationships are on rocky ground like he did, and he's not even sure why he ended up doing it. Is Kokichi going to use it as blackmail? Even though it's hard to imagine what for, it's not something Kaito would put past him.

"You're right about that," Shuuichi starts. "But I still can't help but feel responsible, since it was me that he was trying to get at the whole time."

Hearing that makes Kaito stop.

"What do you mean?"

Realization passes over Shuuichi's face, like he didn't understand before that he'd said something that Kaito doesn't already know. His expression turns grave and serious as he explains. "Ouma wanted me to find out about what he was planning, and he predicted you'd tell me about it. I guess he...wants me to help him investigate this island, so he can figure out if his plan would really work out or not."

That's...that's definitely new information.

It takes a moment for that to sink in.

It's not like the shame he felt from his immediate reaction the previous night is gone. If anything, Kaito will admit that what he said still wasn't entirely fair no matter what. Freaking out and insulting Kokichi because of behavior that's, all in all, relatively normal for him might've been the worst decision he's made yet. But the guilt Kaito felt about all that is rapidly being chucked out the window at the idea that even if he _had_ said yes, he likely wouldn't have been taken seriously, anyway.

It means that it doesn't matter whether he said _yes_ or _no,_ because getting Kaito to work with him was never Kokichi's true objective.

It just all means that there really was no right answer.

He's glad now that he ended up not being able to apologize, because he definitely would have regretted it. There's a sudden, overwhelming impulse to go find the little shit and _wrap his hands around that thin neck_ -

Kaito has to remind himself to calm the fuck down.

His fingers twitch as his ears start burning in shame.

All that rage fades out into a dull ember, a numbing self-hatred, and every part of him becomes tired. It's definitely not the first time he's had a random bout of anger, but what worries him more is that it probably won't be the last. Every time, it makes him feel like he's reverted back to who he used to be. It takes a moment for him to remember who he is and it makes his stomach turn over. He _was_ like that. That's what he _was_ like. It's not true anymore. It's not him anymore.

 _Isn't it?_ His anxious, violent hands demand it of him. _Isn't it?_

Kaito likes to think he's a different person now than he was before the game.

Like, _come on_. He knows right from wrong, and wanting to kill people is just plainly wrong. Obviously. Proper, real morality is one of the things Kaito can finally identify in ways he knows for a fact he couldn't before. Right and wrong used to be conditional to him, things he'd use to manipulate, to justify his own actions. Whether it be for himself or someone else, situations were altered and twisted and warped to fit any narrative that was most convenient for him. Whether what he did was good or bad didn't matter - or, more like, he chose not to care, time and time again.

_The cigarette falls from his hand and ignites the trail of alcohol. He can still feel bottom shelf whiskey burning his throat as he hazily watches the door go up in flames. His entire body feels the growing heat, blood dripping from his teeth and tasting like boiling vomit._

Kaito rubs his eyes.

Well, that memory is just more proof.

It's obvious that he doesn't want to revert back to the aggression, the damaging pride, the hatred that came from just how inferior he felt to everyone else and -

He looks to Shuuichi, who's still staring at him carefully, with a dreadful realization.

 _Oh, wow, yeah_. Some small bit of his doubt goes away because, well - if he were the exact same as before, he can guarantee that he'd hate Shuuichi. But that's his best friend. Kaito couldn't hate him, even if he wanted to.

He _really_ couldn't hate Shuuichi.

Maybe he's a little jealous. _A little_. Because Shuuichi is incredible - he's intelligent and not at all impulsive and doesn't let himself get distracted by silly things like _feelings_ when it comes to finding the truth and setting the record straight. Even when he's overwhelmed, which happens a lot, he's nowhere near as irrational as Kaito can be. He can do wonderful things with just the slightest push and isn't afraid to let himself be vulnerable. That's the kind of strength that Kaito can acknowledge to himself that he just...doesn't have. That he _can't_ have. Not with the way things are now, at least.

"Whatever," Kaito speaks up and says what he thinks he should say, instead of elaborating on how he actually feels. "I'm sure that things will end up alright, no matter what he's planning. And if you end up being involved, it'll give me even more reason not to worry. So I think you should go along with what he wants."

He's able to at least partially convince himself of that by the time he's done rationalizing it out loud, but Shuuichi's looking at him with confused shock, like it's the absolute last thing he'd expected to hear from Kaito.

In a way, Shuuichi almost looks suspicious of him. "You're weirdly alright with this. Do you...trust Ouma?"

_Trust?_

Even though that's not exactly inaccurate, it doesn't feel like the right word to use.

"I mean, I'm not sure if I'd call it that. In the killing game, he came up with that crazy plan and even gave his life to put an end to everything. That's proof that he's got good intentions, yeah? I don't have any reason to doubt him when it comes to that," Kaito isn't sure what he's getting at here, almost feeling like he's venting instead of trying to talk Shuuichi into acting. "It's just his methods I don't always get. He's so fucking _infuriating_. It's not enough that he does something good, he's always gotta...go out of his way to seem like the bad guy. Maybe 'cause that way he can make sacrifices and not worry about whether people blame him for it, since he just takes on all the blame no matter what."

It's a bit of a wild guess. But if it's true, Kaito can sort of relate, though not to that extreme extent. The words Kokichi once said suddenly move to the forefront of Kaito's mind. _People can lie about how malicious they are_. He didn't think about it before, but that can definitely go either way.

Something like realization and shock pass over Shuuichi's face, for some reason. _What?_ Kaito wonders if he said something weird.

At least Shuuichi doesn't look as upset as before, just more inquisitive. "Then, are you saying you want me to keep an eye on him?"

That's not exactly what Kaito's original intent was, but it definitely sounds like a good idea. "Well, yeah. I just thought that maybe you could talk to him, or something," he gives a half-lie. He tries to level out his tone so he doesn't sound bitter or upset about what he says next, because there's really no reason for him to have those feelings. "Since you're the only one he actually wants to be around, I guess. Plus, you probably understand him better than anyone else here."

Shuuichi stares at him, raising his eyebrows incredulously. "I don't...know how true that is."

Before Kaito can question him on that, a figure steps into the room, catching him off guard.

Both of them shift their attention to Maki.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks.

Her sudden presence makes Kaito's mind go blank with worry. Even now, he's not sure why seeing her fills him with such nervousness - no, that's not true, he _is_ sure of why. It's just that he's not comfortable acknowledging it in its entirety. The biggest reason that he can accept is the fact that they ended up parting ways on relatively uncertain terms. He's not sure what kind of a person she is now, nor what she ended up becoming in the killing game after his death. But he supposes the same can be said for Shuuichi, though Kaito's definitely not as worried around him as around her.

He's thankful that Shuuichi is quick to respond to her, since Kaito's mouth dries up and he feels himself unable to make a coherent sentence even in his head. "We're talking about Ouma and what he said earlier. You weren't there for the whole thing, but he asked me to search this resort with him, so he can...figure out if it's worth destroying. That's what he made it sound like, anyway."

As expected, Maki's face darkens.

"And, what? Are you actually thinking of agreeing?" she somehow makes that simple question sound like a threat.

Interestingly enough, Shuuichi doesn't falter, as if he's more than used to this sort of reaction from her. It's actually sort of impressive how little he reacts to someone so intimidating. "I am, if only so I can figure out what his real objective is," those words make Maki calm down considerably, but Shuuichi continues with his last words sounding like he's talking to himself instead of to them. "I know that it's because of my skills as a detective that he wants to use me. I guess this is...just another reason to hate my talent."

Kaito raises an eyebrow at that. "A reason to hate your talent?"

Almost like he didn't expect to be questioned about that, Shuuichi pauses and blinks. "Well, yeah. I sort of...don't like detectives, actually. Mostly because of my uncle. That's a big reason I hate my talent, the way that it is."

While Kaito will admit that he doesn't know much of anything about Shuuichi's uncle or what the guys' hang-ups are, he hates to see that kind of weakness on his sidekick's face.

"You should be more proud of your talent, even if it is something you've got some bad association with," Kaito states boldly. "If it's something you're good at, and something that's helped other people over and over, nothing should hold you back from pursuing it. You should make it your own! Detectives are cool because of people like you, not because of people like your uncle! I mean, really, you're like the new Kirigiri!"

At that, Shuuichi's face lights up. "R - Really? Do you...actually think I'm like her? I always was fascinated with the detective types in _DanganRonpa_."

Maki's confused voice cuts through that excitment. "Who's Kirigiri?"

The two of them look at her like she's just grown a third head.

Even though they all might have some mixed feelings about the franchise as a whole, Kaito still has a hard time believing she doesn't know anything about an iconic character like Kyouko Kirigiri. "What? You don't know? She was part of the original cast!" he insists it like it's common knowledge because, really, it should be. He remembers that he and his friends would constantly talk about the early seasons of the series, since those are considered the classics.

"Oh," she says distantly, like she still doesn't fully understand. "I didn't...watch the show that much, actually."

While Kaito's still reeling from that, Shuuichi takes this opportunity to bring up something that's likely been on everyone's minds this entire time. "I know that the people we were in the game aren't exactly the same types of people we were in real life," he states, saying what no one else has wanted to verbally acknowledge like he always manages to. "But, what about you, Harukawa? If you weren't the type of person who'd watch _DanganRonpa_ , then what were you really like?"

Both Maki and Kaito look to him in surprise, having not expected him to be so forward and upfront about the topic.

Then, seeming to think hard about it, Maki sits down across from the two boys and looks down. She puts a hand to her mouth and furrows her brows, deep in contemplation.

Gradually, her eyes become less clouded and she opens herself up.

"I don't think there's a lot to tell. It's still hard to figure everything out, though. When I told you about the orphanage I grew up in - back when we were in the killing game - I think that was drawing from my real memories," she says slowly, eyes distant. "Because a lot of that was true. I _did_ grow up in an orphanage. The older looking after the younger, all of that. And the fact that the orphanage itself was in financial danger was...exactly why I auditioned for this show in the first place."

So, a lot of it is the same as reality. Kaito thinks that makes sense, since a lot of his own fake memories actually drew from his real memories, as well.

It still pisses him off that she was treated so terribly, though. She definitely doesn't deserve being forced into the role they gave her. He goes to say exactly that. "It's awful that they made you into an assassin, though. That's not fair at all."

"That's not it," she shakes her head and looks down. "I _chose_ the title of an assassin."

He's tempted to do a mental double-take at that.

Luckily, even Shuuichi seems shocked at that. "You chose it? But, why would you do that?"

Her frown tightens. Sweat is visible on her forehead, now that Kaito takes notice of it. It looks from her stiff and cut-off posture that she's trying to hide herself from them, or like she's trying to hide _something_. His mind wanders to what her real life and her real personality might've been like, since he knows he's never seen anyone like her in his own real memories. It doesn't sound from the way she's been talking like she was already an assassin, nor does he really even believe that she could've originally been one anyway.

Then, what is it?

She offers up the answer to them before he can make too many assumptions.

"Saihara," she starts, shifting her gaze between the two of them. With how she's speaking, it sounds as if she's about to confess something. "And...Momota, too - I haven't been very honest with either of you about something. The only way to make sense of why I did what I did is if you know about the fact that I knew him."

Her vague wording only makes Kaito more confused, as well as unsure. A quick glance to Shuuichi tells him that he's not alone in that. "Him? Wait, who are you talking about?"

"Ouma. I knew him. In my real memories, that is. I've known him my entire life."

Silence falls upon all of them.

 _That doesn't make sense._ It's the first thing that Kaito thinks in response, because denying it is the only way he can accept the words in any form. It doesn't make any sense because he's sure that none of them were supposed to know each other before auditioning for the show. He knows for a fact that he's never met any of his _new classmates_ before entering the killing game, so he'd just automatically assumed the same was true for everyone else. But why did he believe that? There's really nothing to back that up, after all. It was just something he believed because of how natural it felt.

But, the idea that Maki and Kokichi knew each other in real life? The fact that they've known each other the whole time? That's not something Kaito can fully process or understand, even though Maki herself is the one who's just said it. It sounds like a joke. A bad one. And one that doesn't match up with reality, at that.

The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can even think about them. "Knew him. You knew him. H - How did you know him?"

"We grew up in the same orphanage," Maki responds simply, sounding as if she's digging her grave even deeper.

Kaito's glad that Shuuichi is able to collect himself much more easily than he is, already looking like he's accepted the situation as is and like he's trying to figure out the missing pieces. Of course, that's to be expected by now. Shuuichi's usefulness in the class trials was mostly due to his ability to think on his feet and react on the spot. "But then," he starts attentively, making connections in his head faster than Kaito can follow. "Wait - were you part of _DICE_?"

 _DICE?_ Even though he's still stunned into a speechless state, Kaito makes note of the foreign word, unsure of what Shuuichi's referring to.

Maki's frown deepens, like she knows what he's talking about. Is it something they learned about after Kaito died?

" _DICE_...wasn't a thing," she says, which makes Kaito feel a little better, since he feels like he can probably put learning about whatever it is on the backburner. "Or - well, I don't remember it, but it might have been. Now that I think about it, he might have created that group after all. It's not like it's something that I can rule out, since it's been a while since I've seen him. He and a few of the others left the orphanage not long before I auditioned. And when he asked me to come with him, I...turned him down."

Finally wanting to contribute to the conversation, Kaito speaks up. "Why would you turn him down?"

That, she doesn't hesitate to answer. "Because I knew we were both going to audition for _DanganRonpa_. We agreed on it beforehand. A long, long time ago."

Kaito supposes that it's not odd to think that two people who joined might have known each other beforehand. It's not like it's the first time something similar has happened with _DanganRonpa_ , so the more he thinks about it, the less shocking it becomes. If both Maki and Kokichi agreed to join the show beforehand, it's not hard to imagine that they'd both end up accepted for the sake of making the game more interesting.

But just as everything's starting to fall into place -

"That...doesn't make a lot of sense."

Shuuichi's voice breaks through his thoughts.

Nothing's really made a lot of sense tonight, but if Shuuichi's the one bringing it up, Kaito can be sure that it's not just a result of his own inability to process a lot of shocking information a once. Kaito focuses on that and pushes "Huh? Why doesn't it?"

"I'm a little confused as to why Ouma would want to audition for _DanganRonpa_ in the first place," Shuuichi begins, looking more than a little unsure of everything that Maki's been telling them. "I can't be sure that I know much of anything about Ouma's true character, but from the way Shirogane made him out to be, it seemed that he hated killing and death. Even in the show itself, it seemed like his opinion on that didn't necessarily change. What would make him want to audition for it?"

Somehow, none of that comes to Kaito as much of a shock, but it still makes a sharp pain pass through his gut to think about. _Hated killing and death_. Yeah, that sounds about right. At the very least, it matches up with what Kokichi said in his last moments.

Memories of Kokichi's face underneath the hydraulic press travel through his mind.

That look of sheer vulnerability on someone who'd done his damndest to keep his walls up isn't something Kaito's at all comfortable with having witnessed, but it's etched into his brain now. _Invasive_ is the word that comes to mind. He feels as though he's seen something he really, really shouldn't have. Like he's an intruder of some sort, as if he's broken into Kokichi's mind without permission. And the pure animosity that Kokichi's been treating him with since they all woke up starts making a bit more sense. It's something that's gone entirely unacknowledged and Kaito hadn't even realized it until now.

 _Villain who's always in control. Paranoid kid who's afraid of death_. There's a clear disconnect between those two descriptions, but when they're applied to Kokichi, the line suddenly begins to blur.

That being said, he's pretty sure that if _he_ were the one in _Kokichi's_ position, showing _Kokichi_ that type of incriminating side, he might be just as tense around the guy.

Guilt and sympathy start creeping into his stomach.

But before he can dwell on those feelings for too long, Maki gives her answer. "It's the same thing that made me want to audition," she runs a hand through her hair and reminisces. "When we talked about it, we were a lot younger. We talked as if we weren't taking it seriously. When we saw it on TV, he turned to me and said, ' _I bet we could single-handedly keep this place running if we won that kind of money_.' I laughed and agreed with him. We went on and on about what kinds of talents we would want once we got old enough to audition, how we'd get to the end and win, everything. He even said we'd have a better chance of winning if both of us went. We acted like it was a joke at the time, but...deep down, I knew that it really wasn't. He knew it, too."

Still, Shuuichi pushes. "But if both of you agreed on it, why'd you end up turning his offer down when he left?"

It's at this point that Maki looks almost irritated with him, like she's becoming more and more convinced that he's trying to interrogate her. "It was _because_ we agreed on it," she insists through gritted teeth. But both her tone and her expression soften when she starts to look back. "At the time, it made sense to me. I thought there would've been a better chance of both of us getting in if I made it seem like we didn't know each other. And I thought that if I pushed him away, it...wouldn't have hurt as much if he..."

She doesn't need to continue. They both understand what she means.

What can either of them say, in this situation? There's not a whole lot that Kaito can come up with to comfort her, even though now is normally the time that he'd say something to get her to keep her chin up. He's at an utter loss for words.

Shuuichi, however, isn't. He gives Maki a smile that Kaito wishes he could muster and speaks to her both gently and firmly. "That all makes things a lot more clear. Thank you for sharing that with us, Harukawa," it's clear that his words make her relax a bit, her shoulders becoming a little less tense. "So, I'm guessing you wanted to be an assassin because you figured it would give you an advantage in the killing game, right?"

Her grim expression confirms it. "Funny that it ended up being a disadvantage, right? I mean - I guess I technically won, but not the way I intended to in the first place. Everything's my fault," her words are cutting and lined with self-hatred, but her tone is cold and clinical, like she's stating simple facts. "I still hate Shirogane and Amami, of course. But everything that's happened to me has been because I can't think before I act. It's all been a result of me making decisions without thinking them through - joining the show, my talent, pushing him away - all of it."

_Ha._

Kaito thinks bitterly that he and Maki have a lot more in common than he'd realized before.

Trying his best to do something useful, he stands and rubs at his head, looking over the both of them as their eyes follow him. "Hey, I'm gonna get us something to drink. Bet Harumaki's even more thirsty than us, right?"

His attempt to change the tone of their conversation isn't very subtle or tactful, but neither seem to care. Shuuichi gives him an open and appreciative look, glowing with a sort of fondness that Kaito's not sure he can look directly at without accidentally blinding himself, while Maki's overwhelming discomfort lessens by a dramatic margin. Maybe Kaito isn't the best at everything, but he thinks he's alright at bringing up the mood when a situation so clearly needs it.

"Not really. But I'll take a drink, anyway," Maki responds with a small smile. That smile is every reward Kaito could ever ask for.

The two of them begin talking to each other as he heads for the kitchen, not sure of what exactly he's looking for. Or if he's even looking for anything at all. He leans against one of the counters and puts his head in his hands, letting out a long breath that he didn't realize he was holding, then takes a few seconds to just stand there and let everything settle in his brain. This is definitely something he needs to get better at - the whole...information overload issue he can't deny he's always had.

At least he doesn't feel quite as light-headed as before. Though, he does still have a lot of questions that he wishes he'd been able to ask during the course of the conversation.

But he's sure he can ask them later.

For now, he supposes he should figure out something to bring back. After all, he left specifically looking for something for them all to drink, so it'll be a little strange if he comes back empty-handed. He opens the fridge, then searches the cabinets for something that sounds good to him. _Coffee?_ A bit late for that, and he's never been a huge fan of the taste, anyway. _Tea?_ Never been much of his thing. _Hot chocolate?_ He's not a fucking kid, first of all, and even then the amount of sugar would practically make all the exercise they just did pointless. Or something like that. He's not a damn nutritionist.

After a few minutes of ransacking the kitchen, he's about ready to just bring them out glasses of water, though he's not much in the mood to explain why he's been taking so long. But before he makes that decision, the corner of his eye catches something.

It's a floor cabinet, just on the other side of the kitchen.

Even though he's not expecting much, he supposes that it couldn't hurt to search through it. But when he pulls both of the wooden doors open, he can't believe what greet his eyes.

" _Woah_!"

Not even half of a minute after he exclaims that, both Shuuichi and Maki rush into the kitchen, both looking panicked and concerned. The latter of the two is even more in distress, though when she sees that Kaito's both alive and unharmed, her expression quickly falls to a deadpan indignation. He can see her reflection in the mirror above the floor cabinet, though he almost wishes that he couldn't. She looks at him like she's pissed that he even had the nerve to make her worry and her tone only further conveys that. "Alright, what the hell's going on?"

He waves to the both of them, trying to brush it off. "Guys, c'mon, check this out!"

When the both of them join him at either side and follow his eye-line, both are surprised and perturbed by the contents.

"Alcohol...?" Maki's mouth hangs open. "I don't understand. If Shirogane and Amami rented this place out for us, why would there be alcohol here?"

Bottles upon bottles line the shelves. There are a lot of both cheap and high-end liquors assorted throughout, all pushed up against each other and crowding the cabinet so it seems as though nothing else would be able to fit. For Kaito, it's the greatest thing that's happened since they all woke up from that damn killing game, so he's not entirely sure why neither of them are as excited as he is.

Giving him a bit of hope, Shuuichi shakes his head to disagree with Maki, but his deductions are far from what Kaito wants him to understand about it all. "No, this is actually an important clue. If anything, this definitely gives Ouma's claim a lot more merit," he begins, and Kaito _supposes_ that that's true, but it's not what he was thinking. "Why would they put alcohol here if they explicitly don't want us messing around with anything we aren't supposed to? And why would it be here in the first place if the people who run this place didn't deliberately put it here? That means..."

They don't get it. Kaito almost feels disappointed that they don't see the opportunity practically handed to them.

And he says as much, berating the both of them for their apparent obliviousness. "You guys are both missing the point here. You're totally missing the bigger picture. There's something we can do now that we have all this, and you don't even see it."

Both of them turn to stare at him.

It doesn't even matter to him that Maki's eyes are saying that he's an idiot, because he can't help but get giddy when she asks, "What are you talking about?"

For the first time that night, Kaito knows something neither Maki nor Shuuichi do. His mouth twists into a grin and he crosses his arms, voice proud and excited as he proclaims -

"We're gonna throw a party."

* * *

"What a shitshow this sure is."

Standing outside their work's headquarters, Ryouko leans against the wall and Yuuto leans over her shoulder.

"Yeah, no kidding. The _one_ time I get a day off," she gestures to the tablet in her hands, eyes glossing over the e-mail for what's felt like the fiftieth time that morning, "this happens."

She really wasn't expected that the highest higher-up in their organization would be killed overnight in their own workplace.

It's a bit unsettling to think about what she might've been able to do to stop it, had she been there, despite not knowing much about the situation at hand. Maybe she wasn't exactly close to Kyosuke Munakata the same way the others were. And maybe she's not quite torn up at the news of his death. But in the end, she'd never _wanted_ him to get killed, nor does she really understand what to do now that he's gone. Ryouko's never been much for death or violence, in all honesty.

There was a joke she'd made a while back to his face, that she'd _'dance on his grave,'_ but she isn't in much of the mood for that right now.

Yuuto sighs and scratches his head, taking a few steps backward as he stares up at the building. "At...least this probably means you're getting a promotion?"

"Well, that's definitely one way of looking at it," she responds, putting the screen away and instead pulling out her notebook and a pen.

Once they finally make their way in, Ryouko can't help but notice how unnerving it is that everyone's going about the day normally. As if nothing's happened. As if their collective head _hasn't_ been chopped off. Considering the fact that _Team DanganRonpa'_ s identity as a corporate entity would be placed in jeopardy if everyone was made aware of Kyosuke's recent passing, she can't exactly say why she's so surprised. They pass by the multitude of desks and designated working areas and boardrooms, forced to only observe the permeating ignorance in the air.

Ryouko's so out of it by the time they reach the elevators that she forgets to push the button, so Yuuto does it for her.

The elevator doors open after a minute or so and for just a moment, they both stare blankly into the empty cabin. Even though this is what they came here for, it's not hard to tell that they're both anxious about what they intend to witness. It's Yuuto who clears his throat and steps forward first. "No time to waste, I guess."

When they enter and make for the bottom floor, Ryouko finds herself with more questions than ever. "They don't have the building closed off for this?"

"What, you don't remember what Samidare said?" she gives him a blank look and he only then realizes what a stupid question that is. He coughs uncomfortably and looks forward, finding the buttons on the wall to suddenly be _super_ interesting. "Right, well. Johnny didn't really go into that much detail in his message this morning. This whole situation's pretty under-wraps right now. Only those loyal and within _Team DanganRonpa's_ inner circle know about it. And us, of course."

She frowns at his distasteful joke. "You can't be so open about us hating the organization like that. It'll get us both killed."

Yuuto laughs and points to the cameras. "Oh, come on, we already know no one could _possibly_ be listening right now."

He's not exactly wrong, but that doesn't make her any less worried.

_Tsumugi Shirogane and Rantarou Amami are suspected to have incinerated the communications/security area within Section C's designated headquarters. There are believed to have been four people present in said area during the incident, including the named culprits, as well as Kyosuke Munakata and Ryouta Mitarai. Their current states are set to be strictly classified until the full account can be given._

Even without Yuuto telling her, Ryouko could infer from the wording that Kyosuke is dead.

Turning to him, she flips open a page and puts her pen to it. "Have you met Tsumugi Shirogane in person?"

"Oh, yeah. She's super hot," he responds with a grin, then laughs nervously. "Like, not as hot as you obviously, but - "

"Anyway," she interrupts him and starts writing a bit more furiously. "You have your identification on you, right? I forgot to ask, but we need it."

Sensing the tension in the air, he looks away and frowns. It's shockingly easy to shut him down. Even if Yuuto's doing his best to lighten the mood, it's not always what she needs, and he doesn't get that all the time. Still, she can't help but appreciate the effort. "Oh. Uh, yeah, I do," he feels in his pocket for it. Then, after a few moments pass of near silence, he tries to change the subject. "Y'know, you're kind of like that one girl from that real long manga about detectives. The super smart one."

"Thanks," Ryouko pauses her writing and speaks flatly. "I don't know what that is, but thanks."

It's almost a blessing when the elevator finally stops.

 _Almost_ , because it becomes clear within just a few seconds of the metal doors sliding open and them entering the dim hallway that it's far more of a curse.

It's like they've suddenly entered Hell itself.

Everything smells like burnt flesh and hot steel. It makes Ryouko's eyes water and she has to pull her shirt up to cover her mouth so she doesn't suffocate from the odor. There are lights coming from the end of the hall, a _giant_ hole leading into another room, as well as debris and large construction mechanisms off to the side. Various people dressed as inspectors and doctors line the area, their outfits and equipment marked with an insignia that Ryouko only vaguely recognizes - blue circle with what looks like a black sun in the middle.

All of it makes her dizzy and disoriented; moreso than she already was.

But when she looks over to Yuuto, he just looks mildly uncomfortable.

Well, she supposes she gets it. He has a lot more experience with death than almost anyone else she knows. Maybe that sort of thing doesn't fit someone with plain and innocent-looking features like him, but she guesses that's part of the point.

One of the men - a doctor, it seems - spots them and hurries toward the two before they can make it anywhere near the heart of the situation. "I'm sorry, but you can't be here."

"I work in this building," Ryouko hurries to explain. "I was - "

"Ma'am, I understand, but this is officially a crime scene," the man interrupts her sternly. _Worth a shot._

"Then, might I suggest letting us do our jobs?" Yuuto takes out his identification from his jacket - _finally_ , what was he waiting for? - and shoves it in the doctor's face. When the man takes it and fully inspects it, his eyes widen in disbelief as he looks between the two of them, like he can't believe who they are. Sensing this, Yuuto continues. "Yeah. Special Investigator. And this is my trusted assistant, so I request that you let her through as well. You'll refer to her as Otonashi. Otherwise, don't worry about her."

Recognition on the doctor's face begins to sink in when Yuuto says that name. "Ah, you were both in...you're from that spin-off no one watched! _That's_ why I didn't know who you were at first!"

There's a silent pause as Yuuto nervously looks over to Ryouko's stunned and offended face.

As expected, she immediately starts to make a scene. "H - Hey! People watched us! That spin-off was important, okay? You'd know if you just - "

"Haha, o- _kay_ , we'll be on our way. Thanks for understanding," Yuuto grabs at her shirt and starts pulling her forward before she can attract anymore attention. When they're finally far enough away, he fixes an irritated look on her and lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. "Christ, and you think _I'm_ being too open about my views?"

She's obviously not very happy with him for interrupting her, but he doesn't waver when she glares back. "But come on! I played as the original Junko Enoshima. Y'know, sort of. When people say we weren't important...it just makes me mad!"

 _No one cares about that_ , is what he wants to say, but he knows it'll just make her even more upset if he's that honest. It's _because_ of how relatively unknown they are that they've been able to work in the shadows and get anything accomplished. That's something he's used to, at the very least, but he can understand why she isn't. She might be one of the smartest people he knows when she puts her mind to it, but she's also always been far too ambitious for her own good.

Which is why it makes him a bit nervous when her attention is suddenly focused elsewhere.

He follows the line her eyes make to a set of occupied stretchers.

Surrounding them are multiple men in white coats, the ones closest looking a bit more unsettled than the others. Even though there are four of the prams, three are silent and motionless while only one contains a thrashing body. Whoever it is, they're making a lot of distressed sounds and saying things Ryouko can't quite decipher amidst the chaos of the various doctors and inspectors trying to placate them, and she takes a few steps toward the group without a word.

Dread fills Yuuto's stomach as he looks back to her with worry. "Otonashi, what are you thinking?"

"I need to get over there."

He puts a nervous hand on her shoulder and shakes his head. "Hang on, the crime scene is over - "

"Get me over there," she insists when she turns back to him.

 _Fuck_.

Yuuto drops his hand in defeat, knowing full well he really can't argue with her when she gets like this.

They both make their way to the group of people, Yuuto in the lead, and he lifts his identification in his hand to any he passes by, keeping his periphery focused on Ryouko. He brushes off any dissenting voices with his spiel of being a Special Investigator. It isn't very difficult to navigate through the small crowd when none of them seem to happy to be near the bodies in the first place. However, one of the men is particularly adamant on getting in their way. He stops and puts a palm out in front of them.

The man tries to prevent them from getting close enough to the stretcher by blocking it with his own body. "This man is in an unstable condition and needs medical attention. Inspector or not, I can't let you anywhere near the body."

" _Investigator_."

"I don't care," he brushes off Yuuto's correction with mild annoyance.

To his side, Ryouko speaks up. "Please. I need to talk to him for just a few minutes. He's the only known witness to the crime and there are some questions I need him to answer in order to figure out what really happened here."

Her words seem to get through to the doctor, if a bit.

He eyes her carefully and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he says. "Three minutes. You can have three minutes to talk to him. You're not going to get anything out of him, though."

 _We'll see about that,_ she thinks to herself, but instead thanks the man.

The sight that greets her when she finally rushes over to stare at the struggling body is nothing short of gruesome. Ryouta Mitarai. Through process of elimination, she knows it has to be him, but it's hard to recognize him with how he looks now. There's a thick bandage wrapped around the left side of his face, but she can see the burn marks creeping from under them. That entire side of his body seems to be badly singed, though not all of it is covered, and she wonders briefly just who the hell is letting him stay awake like this.

Why hasn't he been sedated? Even though she's sure he's also an adult, his almost childlike features make her even more sympathetic to what kind of pain he must be experiencing. But as she sees him try to break from the restraints he's being held in, she starts to realize that all of these people are _afraid_ of getting near him.

_Cowards._

_They're all cowards._

She narrows her gaze and tries to get his attention. "Hey, can you see me? Can you hear me? Focus on me, if you can."

Mitarai's visible eye shoots to her face. Well, she thinks that's probably a good sign.

"H - Help me," he gasps out, clutching at the air above him and looking around sporadically with his one uncovered eye. "Please, I need - "

Without hesitation, Ryouko grasps his hand.

He doesn't even notice the intense pain as she touches the tender skin.

It takes only that for him to focus his vision. To him, as she stands above him and the white of the hall's lights blind him and bathe her body, as her red hair falls down her back and over her shoulders like a waterfall of blood, as her sharp eyes stare down at him with a type of care and concern Mitarai doesn't remember receiving from much of anyone as of late, as she firmly holds his hand with ready compassion and a clear desire to help him despite having only just seen him, this woman looks like nothing short of an angel.

_Like an angel._

His breathing is still erratic, but he's able to work on collecting his thoughts as he puts all of energy into this single moment of clarity. He tightens his grip and gives her a questioning expression. "Who...are you?"

"Ryouko Otonashi," she replies steadily. _Otonashi_. Even though he clearly recognizes the name, it's hard to place it while he's in this state. "We're here to investigate the tragedy that's happened here. I know you're in no condition to answer questions, but we have no other options."

The gears in his brain start turning again. _Question him?_

Right. He figures he can understand that. Even though it's hard to properly connect the events in his mind, let alone make sense of any of them, he can register that he's probably the only person anyone _could_ question about what happened. And in the back of his mind, he wonders if talking about it would actually help him in recalling what transpired so he can process it correctly. He goes to nod, but notices a little too late that he can't, so he swallows and speaks dryly. "Okay. Okay, that's...that's alright."

Her eyes light up at that, which he suppose makes it a little more worth it, and Ryouko lets his hand go. Even though he misses the contact immediately, he mentally shakes it off as she goes back to writing and forms her questions.

"Did you see the perpetrators? Can you confirm that the ones who burned this place down were Tsumugi Shirogane and Rantarou Amami?"

Those names have an immediate affect on Mitarai.

His eyes go even wider than Ryouko had thought humanly possible and he whimpers, looking much like a frightened child. "Did...they survive?"

"That's actually part of my next question," she replies carefully, wondering what could've possibly happened for him to be so afraid at the simple names of the two. Aren't they just a couple of teenagers? She can't imagine what they'd be capable of that would warrant this reaction - but, then again, they're _supposedly_ the ones that killed Kyosuke - so, she can't really let her guard down based just on that. "Of the four bodies recovered from the scene, you are the only survivor. Can you also confirm that two of the three others in the room with you were the perpetrators?"

"So, they _didn't_ make it out," he closes his eye, looking rather relieved at that. "They said they wouldn't leave, so I guess they were telling the truth."

Standing a bit awkwardly, Yuuto runs a hand through his hair and gives a confused groan. "I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish here," he says, looking at his watch to see that their time is already almost up despite them not getting much information at all so far. He's not even sure what questions he was expecting her to ask, but none of them have seemed at all helpful in learning what happened.

Ryouko blinks and slightly shifts her head to the side, though her eyes don't move from being focuse on Mitarai. "Huh? I didn't get that."

There's a pause, then Yuuto lets out a groan. "Even if I repeat myself, you're not really paying attention now, are you?

"I am paying attention," she insists in near monotone, brows furrowing as she jots down more sporadic notes.

Well, he supposes that she's paying attention to _something_.

"Right."

It's not like there's much he can do to stop her. Despite how pointless he feels this is, he's a bit taken aback by her intense expression, like she's trying desperately to solve a complicated puzzle. He can't know what's going through her head, but he wonders if there really _is_ something that she's been learning throughout this conversation. Was there something about all of this that he missed? To him, it seems like a pretty cut-and-dry murder-suicide committed by two kids, but he guesses that he _could_ be wrong about that.

The revelation in her soft voice makes Yuuto even more unsure. "Something isn't adding up here."

He watches as her eyes flip back and forth between the bodies and paper in her hands. "Isn't...adding up? What are you talking about?"

Ryouko turns back to him and opens her mouth to respond, but she finds herself unable to and looks at something just behind him.

As Yuuto expected from the disappointed look, the doctor places a hand on Yuuto's arm and firmly gestures for their departure. "Miss Otonashi? Mister Kamishiro? I understand that you need to gather information, but your time with him is up. We need to get this man to a hospital."

"Ah, I might have gone on for a bit too long by accident," she gives a sheepish smile and takes out her phone. Before she dials anyone, though, she turns back to Mitarai and gives an apologetic expression "I need to make some phone calls, anyway. There's a lot about this situation that we don't understand right now, so we'll have to question you while you're still in the recovery process. I know that might end up being overwhelming. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, you'll be hearing from us fairly soon, Ryouta Mitarai."

Her last words are said in a rush and just when the blond goes to respond, she's already on the phone and hurrying away. Both she and Yuuto disappear among the sea of people and he suddenly feels lightheaded and weak, the lights far too bright for his darkening eyes. Everything turns into a blur and the small bit of awareness he'd had starts to fade away when he feels himself start to sweat.

The edges of his vision start going black and he only just then notices the sting of a needle in his arm. _When did that happen?_

As he slips back into unconsciousness, Ryouta thinks that seeing her again wouldn't be unfortunate at all.

 


End file.
